BY 

66OROe  H.6LLWANG6R 


REESE    LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Received          *~W9OA edi/.  , . 
Accessions  No.  //£>3-6>/        Shelf  No. . 


THE  GARDEN'S  STORY 


01 


PLEASURES    AND    TRIALS    OF    AN 
AMATEUR   GARDENER 


BY 
GEORGE   H.  ELLWANGER 


Fair  Quiet,  have  I  found  thee  here  ? 

ANDREW  MARVELL— THE  GARDEN 


\7>    /;7>/7A>.V,    A*A/7.V/.7» 


NEW   YORK 
D.   APPLETON   AND  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1889, 
BY  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


.    •  f  t 

•  ^tiBHBF- 


TO 
REV.   C.  WOLLEY  DOD, 

MASTER  OF  GARDENING, 
WHOSE  WORK  AMONG  HARDY   PLANTS 

HAS  DONE   SO   MUCH 

FOR   THE   ADVANCEMENT   OF   FLORICULTURE, 
THIS   INCOMPLETE   RECORD   OF 

THE   GARDEN-YEAR 

IS   RESPECTFULLY   AND    GRATEFULLY 
INSCRIBED. 


You  find  me  in  my  garden  dress.  You  will  excuse  it,  I 
know.  It  is  an  ancient  pursuit,  gardening.  Primitive,  my 
dear  sir ;  for,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  Adam  was  the  first  of  our 
calling.— PECKSNIFF. 

I  am  of  Opinion  that  one  considerable  way  to  improve 
Gardening  and  the  Culture  of  Plants  would  be  to  give  a  de- 
scription of  the  Plants  themselves ;  then  the  Soils,  Climates, 
and  Countries  where  the  Plants  to  be  cultivated  naturally 
grow ;  and  what  Seasons,  Rains,  and  Meteors  they  have : 
which,  being  imitated  as  much  as  possible,  perhaps  some 
Plants  might  thrive  better  than  they  do  now  on  the  fattest 
Ground.— PHILOSOPHICAL  TRANSACTIONS  OF  THE  ROYAL  SO- 
CIETY TO  THK  END  OP  THE  YEAR  1700,  ARTICLE  LXXXIV. 


HE  publication  of  a  book  on  the  Gar- 
den calls  for  no  apology— there  are 
not  half  enough  contemporary  works 
on  the  subject ;  there  never  can  be  too  many. 
The  design  of  the  present  volume  is  to  direct 
attention  to  the  importance  of  hardy  flower- 
gardening  as  a  means  of  outward  adornment 
and  as  a  source  of  recreation.  Some  of  the 
very  many  hardy  plants,  shrubs,  and  climbers 
which  may  be  advantageously  employed  are 
mentioned,  and  some  hints  are  given  with  re- 
spect to  their  use  and  culture. 

I  am  aware  the  list  is  far  from  complete, 

> 

even  for  this  rigorous  climate,  where  the  line 
is  distinctly  drawn  by  the  extremes  of  heat  and 
cold.  To  enumerate  all  plants  worthy  a  place 
under  cultivation  would  require  the  knowledge 


vi  preface. 

and  experience  of  a  Loudon ;  and  tastes  vary 
largely  as  regards  the  worth  and  beauty  of  in- 
dividual flowers. 

It  has  been  the  aim  to  present  a  simple  out- 
line of  hardy  flower-gardening,  rather  than  a 
formal  treatise  or  text-book  of  plants— to  stimu- 
late a  love  for  amateur  gardening  that  may  be 
carried  out  by  all  who  are  willing  to  bestow 
upon  it  that  meed  of  attention  it  so  bountifully 
repays.  Nearly  all  the  subjects  referred  to  are 
such  as  may  be  successfully  grown  in  the  low- 
er lake  region,  and,  for  the  most  part,  have 
come  under  notice  in  the  writer's  garden. 

Different  soils  and  different  treatment  often 
produce  widely  dissimilar  results ;  and  even  the 
limited  list  presented  may  possibly  be  found  to 
contain  some  departure  from  the  well-known 
types.  Moreover,  it  is  pleasant  sometimes  to 
look  at  a  flower  through  different  eyes.  The 
flower  remains  the  same,  though  its  perfume 
may  become  accentuated,  and  the  garden  prove 
the  more  inviting  the  oftener  its  beauties  are 
set  forth. 


preface,  vil 


The  following  chapters  have  been  so  ar- 
ranged as  to  present  the  various  aspects  of  the 
garden  from  early  spring  until  late  autumn. 
But  the  garden  year  is  so  interwoven  with  the 
many  delightful  phases  of  external  nature  that, 
the  more  fully  to  preserve  the  sequence  of  the 
seasons,  it  has  been  deemed  advisable  to  touch 
also  upon  the  bird  and  insect  life  with  which 
it  is  so  intimately  connected.  The  bee,  the 
moth,  the  butterfly,  are  all  inseparable  attend- 
ants upon  the  flowers,  and  have  their  mission 
in  the  economy  of  the  garden.  The  birds,  also, 
are  constant  visitors  to  every  nook  and  corner, 
and  likewise  possess  an  interest  and  have  a 
voice  in  the  garden's  progress  from  day  to  day. 

Numerous  references  to  the  wild  flowers  in 
their  native  haunts,  a  chapter  on  the  rock-gar- 
den, and  a  chapter  on  hardy  ferns,  have  been 
introduced ;  and,  finally,  more  or  less  allusion  to 
the  flowers  and  seasons  in  literature  has  been 
made.  The  year  referred  to  is  that  of  1888. 

G.   H.   E. 

ROCHESTER,  N.  Y.,  1889. 


PAGE 

PREFACE       v 

I.  THE  GARDEN  IN  ANTICIPATION  ...      3 
II.  AN  OUTLINE  OF  THE  GARDEN    ...    31 

III.  THE  SPRING  WILD  FLOWERS     .       .        .59 

IV.  WHEN  DAFFODILS  BEGIN  TO  PEER    .        .    81 
V.  THE  ROCK-GARDEN 105 

VI.  THE  SUMMER  FLOWERS      .        .       .       .135 

VII.  Two  GARDEN  FAVORITES    .        .  .165 

VIII.  WARM-WEATHER  WISDOM  .        .        .       .193 

IX.  MY  INSECT  VISITORS 209 

X.  HARDY  SHRUBS  AND  CLIMBERS  .       .       .229 

XI.    IN  AND  OUT  OF  THE  GARDEN       .          .          .245 

XII.  THE  HARDY  FERNERY         .       .       .       .261 

XIII.  MIDSUMMER    FLOWERS  AND   MIDSUMMER 

VOICES 275 

XIV.  FLOWERS  AND  FRUITS  OF  AUTUMN  .        .  299 
XV.   THE  LAST  MONK'S-HOOD  SPIRE  .       .       .325 

INDEX 339 


©ttrbcn  in  Anticipation. 


And  the  spring  comes  slowly  up  this  way. 

CHRISTABEL. 

Or  call  it  winter,  which,  being  full  of  care. 
Makes  summer's  welcome  thrice  more  wished,  more  rare. 

SONNET  LVJ. 


I. 


THE   GARDEN   IN   ANTICIPATION. 


T  appears  a  long  way  removed  still — 
the  goal  toward  which  the  length- 
ening days  are  slowly  trending.  In 
place  of  rampant  Aries,  ever  charging  upon  the 
delaying  spring,  Patience-on-a-Monument  would 
seem  an  equally  appropriate  symbol  of  March, 
were  the  signs  of  the  zodiac  to  be  remodeled. 
The  seconds  drag  through  a  never-emptying 
minute-glass,  until  one  wearies  utterly  of  the 
tedium  of  the  "  loaded  hours,"  and  wonders  not 
at  the  impassioned  cry  of  the  poet : 

O  God,  for  one  clear  day,  a  snow-drop  and  sweet  air ! 

Yet,  bluster  as  he  will,  March  has  at  most 
four  weeks  to  retard  the  "  open  sesame  !  "  How 
gratefully  the  grass  will  smile  at  the  first  warm 
rains  ;  and  what  a  caressing  odor  will  arise  with 
the  first  whiff  of  Daphne  mezereum,  a  foretaste 


C|)c  (Garden's 


of  its  sweeter  sister,  the  rosy-cheeked  Daphne 
cneorum,  and  all  the  train  of  expectant  flo\\ 

Slowly,  yet  surely,  the  hour  of  the  year  is  ad- 
vancing. Under  the  ermine  of  winter,  April's 
treasures  await  only  the  robins'  rondeau  to  call 
them  forth.  And  what  pleasure  there  is  in  the 
anticipation !  The  swarms  of  tulips  already 
gathering  their  forces— the  dazzling  rex  rubro- 
rums,  the  bizarres,  and  the  tall  marbled  by- 
bloems,  which  look  like  the  old-fashioned  silks  of 
our  pretty  grandmothers.  That  bank  of  oxlips, 
cowslips,  and  primroses,  too — "  crimson-maroon 
sparkler,"  "  Danesford  yellow  hose  -  in  -  hose," 
"  lilac  pantaloons,"  and  ever  so  many  more  in- 
viting names — which  you  placed  along  the  south 
garden-wall,  what  a  mass  of  bloom  will  not  push 
through  the  mottled  earth !  And  that  hamper 
of  daffodil-bulbs,  sent  by  a  friend  in  England, 
what  wealth  of  beaten  gold  will  not  unfold  from 
the  fragrant  petals ! 

Will  pallidus  prcecox  outstrip  obvallaris  in 
the  race;  and  will  "golden  plover"  vie  with 
"golden  dragon";  or  can  any  daffodil,  born  or 
yet  unborn,  excel  the  glorious  bicolor  of  the 
Lancashire  weaver,  John  Horsfield?  Only,  as 
every  rose  has  its  thorn,  Horsfieldi  has  its  seri- 
ous drawback,  at  least  with  me,  in  decreasing  in 
vigor  every  year.  Perhaps  it  is  the  fault  of  soil ; 


Jrn 


more  probably  a  matter  of  climate.  But,  inas- 
much as  I  have  succeeded  in  wooing  the  coquet- 
tish Lilium  auratum  so  that  she  smiles  instead 
of  frowns,  I  shall  continue  to  persevere  with 
Horsfieldi,  which  is  worth  any  pains  to  obtain 
in  the  perfect  full-blown  flower. 

To  think  it  has  taken  all  these  years  to  ren- 
der a  daffodil  "  fashionable  "  !  As  if  a  live  flow- 
er were  a  ribbon,  subject  to  the  caprice  of  a 
milliner!  Yel,  what  may  we  not  expect  when 
lovely  woman  stoops  to  blond  her  tresses,  and 
vandal  florists  figuratively  plunge  a  flower  into 
the  dye-pot?  Scarcely  a  case  where  beauty  is 
truth,  truth  beauty.  Perhaps,  some  day,  ma- 
genta may  become  the  mode,  and  a  magenta 
gown  call  for  its  accompanying  flower  of  the 
same  shade — a  chance  to  let  a  zinnia  scream. 
The  camellia,  described  in  the  dictionary  as 
"a  genus  of  beautiful  plants,"  fortunately  has 
had  its  day — banished  with  the  wax  flowers  in 
Wardian  cases,  let  us  hope,  never  to  return  ; 
too  bloodless  and  too  cold  even  for  a  chancel ; 
a  flower  absolutely  without  a  soul.  In  the  in- 
dex expurgatortus  should  be  included  the  calla 
lily,  which  still  does  lugubrious  duty  at  funerals. 
Talmage's  wish  that,  when  he  dies,  his  grave  may 
be  strewed  with  a  handful  of  violets,  a  water-lily, 
a  sprig  of  arbutus,  a  cluster  of  asters,  rather  than 


that  he  be  laid  in  imperial  catafalque  of  Russian 
czar,  is  a  sentiment  relatives  would  do  well  to 
consider  at  the  obsequies  of  those  they  may  be 
called  upon  to  mourn.  The  final  tributes  at  the 
grave,  above  all,  should  express  the  floral  prefer- 
ences of  the  departed — the  old  custom  of  the 
Indians,  clothed  in  a  softer,  lovelier  garb. 

In-door  flowers  at  this  season  atone,  in  a 
measure,  for  those  unobtainable  out  of  doors — 
always  providing  one  can  afford  to  pay  a  dollar 
apiece  as  the  price  of  a  new  rose,  and  shut  one's 
olfactories  to  the  taint  of  tobacco-smoke  and 
the  villainous-smelling  stuff  shot  at  the  red  spi- 
der that  frequently  adheres  to  the  glass-grown 
queen  of  flowers.  Marie  Louise  violets  and  lilies 
of  the  valley  lose  none  of  their  sweetness  by 
being  grown  out  of  season.  The  violet!  how 
pure  its  wave  of  fragrance  !  And  the  potfuls  of 
''grand  soletl  (Tor  "  and  "grand  primo  "  taz- 
zettas! — surely  here  is  spring  incense  enough 
to  fill  a  cathedral  at  Easter-tide.  Is  there  any 
odor  more  delectable  than  the  mingled  essence 
of  pineapple,  orange,  and  banana,  which  this 
form  of  the  poet's  flower  exhales?  To  many, 
the  odor  of  paper-white  (Narcissus  papyra- 
ceus)  and  the  Campernelle  jonquil  (A",  odorus} 
is  almost  overpowering ;  they  should  be  used 
sparingly,  therefore — a  single  spathe  will  suffice 


I-it  3lntfcfpatfon. 


to  scent  your  library.  Powerful  enough  they 
are  to  have  pleased  Baudelaire,  who,  preferring 
musk  to  violets  or  roses,  declared,  "  My  soul 
hovers  over  perfumes  as  the  soul  of  others  hov- 
ers over  music."  There  is,  indeed,  an  intoxica- 
tion, and  often  a  strong  association,  in  the  sub- 
tile odor  emitted  by  certain  flowers.  Does  not 
the  perfume  of  Lilium  auratum,  stealing  from 
the  spotted  petals,  recall  the  reedy  jungle  and 
the  stalking  tiger?  Or  a  gorgeous  epiphytal 
orchid,  steeped  in  its  mysterious  perfume,  does 
it  not  simulate  unconsciously  some  strange  form 
of  tropic  insect  or  animal  life  ?  I  oftener  recall 
a  flower  by  its  odor,  to  which  sentiment  tena- 
ciously clings,  than  by  mere  characteristics  of 
form  or  color.  What  an  indelible  aroma,  that 
of  the  fragrant  everlasting  of  the  fields ! — a 
wild,  haunting  odor,  as  of  fallen  leaves  after  the 
latter  rains,  when  the  sun  extracts  their  essences, 
rather  than  the  characteristic  fragrance  of  a 
flower.  Through  its  rustling,  ashen  petals  I 
already  inhale  the  autumn  from  afar,  and  an- 
ticipate the  last  sad  cricket's  cry.  If  Addison 
be  taken  for  authority,  we  can  not  have  a  single 
image  in  the  fancy  that  does  not  make  its  first 
entrance  through  the  sight* — a  dogma  which, 

*  "  On  the  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination." 


8  CDe  <5art»en's  Stori?. 

though  emanating  from  the  "  Spectator,"  is 
manifestly  sophistical  and  untrue.  Was  Addi- 
son  deficient  in  the  sense  of  smell  (the  voice  of 
a  flower) ;  or  was  a  thrush's  song  powerless  to 
awaken  in  him  a  sentiment  of  sublimity  ?  But 
Addison  does  not  mention  odors,  and,  for  the 
most  part,  I  take  it,  did  not  like  external  sounds ; 
or  was  it  Steele  who  wrote  the  essay  "  On  the 
London  Cries  "  ? 

Bulwer  declares,  the  only  perfume  a  man 
should  use  is  soap  and  water— a  heresy.  I 
would  not  for  a  moment  commend  musk,  or 
even  ylang-ylang ;  though  the  latter,  it  seems  to 
me,  is  preferable  to  the  compound  of  Jean  Mi 
ria  Farina  with  which  men  fairly  saturate  them- 
selves. Consider  its  ingredients :  orange,  cedrat, 
neroly,  bergamot,  and  rosemary —scent  enough 
to  trap  a  cougar.  But  this  is  supposed  to  be 
fashionable ;  while  a  hem-stitched  handkerchief, 
with  a  lingering  scent  of  violets,  has  no  right  to 
peep  from  the  masculine  pocket.  Why  should 
everything  dainty  be  monopolized  by  the  fair 
sex  ?  Has  it  not  enough,  with  its  feathers  and 
ribbons  and  laces  and  jewelry,  without  carrying 
out  the  adage  to  its  ultimatum,  "  sweets  to  the 
sweet  "  ?  It  even  robs  masculinity  of  any  pro- 
prietorship to  color,  except  what  little  can  be 
focused  into  a  scarf,  or  polka-dot  a  waistcoat. 


Sn  Slntfcfpatfon. 


To  be  sure,  there  are  those  striped  Joseph's- 
coats  one  meets  at  the  sea-side,  appropriately 
termed  "blazers,"  which  woman  openly  pro- 
fesses to  admire,  only  to  contrast  tHem  inward- 
ly with  the  sea-side  habiliments  of  her  own  hu- 
man form  divine.  Even  her  blue  bathing-dress 
she  has  deliberately  pirated  from  the  sailor  of 
the  high  seas,  and  pilfered  the  crowning  charac- 
teristic that  proclaims  man  a  man — the  stove- 
pipe hat. 

Let  those  of  the  sterner  sex  who  love  the 
delicate  aroma  of  a  flower  not  hesitate  to  use 
its  essence  when  distilled  by  an  Atkinson,  if  the 
flower  itself  can  not  be  had  to  take  its  place  on 
the  lapel.  Does  not  Dumas  pere,  in  the  "  Vi- 
comte  de  Bragelonne,"  speak  of  the  Bishop  of 
Vannes  as  exhaling  "  that  delicate  perfume 
which,  with  elegant  men  and  women  of  the 
grand  world,  never  changes,  seeming  to  be  in- 
corporated in  the  person  of  which  it  has  become 
the  natural  emanation  "  ?  Another  case  where 
they  manage  these  things  better  in  France.  It 
is  well  known,  moreover,  that  flower-essences 
are  prophylactic  and  antiseptic — the  more  reason 
why  they  should  be  employed,  in  moderation,  and 
that  their  use  be  not  monopolized  by  woman. 
"  There  are  perfumes,"  says  Gautier,  "  which 
are  fresh  as  the  skin  of  a  child,  green  as  spring 
2 


io  CTfJe  ffifar&en's  Stern. 

meadows,  recalling  the  flush  of  sunrise,  and  car- 
rying with  them  thoughts  of  innocence.  Others, 
like  musk,  amber,  benzoin,  spikenard,  and  in- 
cense, are  superb,  triumphant,  mundane,  pro- 
vocative of  coquetry,  love,  luxury,  festivity,  and 
splendor.  Were  they  transposed  to  the  sphere 
of  colors,  they  would  represent  gold  and  purple." 

I  open  the  jar  of  rose  pot-pourri  to  flood 
the  room  with  the  subtile  essence  of  June.  No 
evanescent  odor,  but  one  that  permeates  and 
clings,  evaporating  not,  changing  not  its  sweet- 
ness from  year  to  year.  I  do  not  refer  to  the 
dry,  soapy-smelling  article  of  commerce  labeled 
"Tea-rose  Pot-pourri  from  Japan,"  but  to  the 
old-fashioned  "rose-jar,"  made  from  your  own 
garden-roses,  blended  with  a  sufficiency  of  other 
sweets  to  hold  its  perfume  immutable.  It  is 
difficult  to  give  a  precise  recipe  for  a  rose  pot- 
pourri, for  no  two  ever  turn  out  quite  alike.  I 
would  say,  however,  with  fat  old  Baron  Brisse 
in  the  preface  to  an  entree  in  his  "  Petite  Cui- 
sine "  :  "There  is  a  certain  point  in  this  prepara- 
tion rather  difficult  to  seize  ;  but  this  is  the  way 
to  set  about  it  in  order  to  be  complimented  : " 

The  roses  employed  should  be  just  blown, 
of  the  sweetest-smelling  kinds,  gathered  in  as 
dry  a  state  as  possible.  After  each  gathering, 
spread  out  the  petals  on  a  sheet  of  paper  and 


gntfcfpatfon.  n 


leave  until  free  from  all  moisture  ;  then  place  a 
layer  of  petals  in  the  jar,  sprinkling  with  coarse 
salt;  then  another  layer  and  salt,  alternating 
until  the  jar  is  full.  Leave  for  a  few  days,  or 
until  a  broth  is  formed  ;  then  incorporate  thor- 
oughly, and  add  more  petals  and  salt,  mixing 
daily  for  a  week,  when  fragrant  gums  and  spices 
should  be  added,  such  as  benzoin,  storax,  cassia- 
buds,  cinnamon,  cloves,  cardamom,  and  vanilla- 
bean.  Mix  again,  and  leave  for  a  few  days, 
when  add  essential  oil  of  jasmine,  violet,  tuber- 
ose, and  attar  of  roses,  together  with  a  hint  of 
ambergris  or  musk,  in  mixture  with  the  flower 
ottos  to  fix  the  odor.  Spices,  such  as  cloves, 
should  be  sparingly  used.  A  rose  pot-pourri 
thus  combined,  without  parsimony  in  supplying 
the  flower  ottos,  will  be  found  in  the  fullest 
sense  a  joy  forever. 

Notwithstanding  the  rarity  of  flowers  at  this 
season,  no  one  with  'space  enough  for  the  small- 
est kitchen-garden  need  be  without  at  least  an 
abundance  of  violets.  A  small  stock  of  strong 
young  plants,  placed  in  good  soil  in  May  in  a 
partially  shaded  position,  will  have  increased 
sufficiently  by  November  to  supply  a  hot-bed. 
These  should  be  planted  within  a  few  inches  of 
the  glass,  early  enough  to  insure  their  rooting 
well  before  extreme  cold  weather.  The  hot-bed 


12  STIjc  ©artoen's  Storn. 

should  be  placed  in  the  most  sheltered  and  sun- 
shiny position,  and  be  thoroughly  protected  on 
the  sides  with  leaves  or  straw,  and  the  sashes 
covered  with  thick  matting  and  boards  to  ex- 
clude frost.  So  soon  as  the  weather  allows,  in 
spring  or  during  the  winter,  air  should  be  given 
gradually  during  the  day,  recollecting  that  cold 
currents  of  air  should  be  guarded  against.  As  the 
weather  becomes  warm,  and  the  plants  require 
it,  they  may  be  watered  occasionally.  Pinch- 
ing back  the  runners  will  increase  the  bloom. 
After  blossoming,  lift  the  plants,  divide  them 
and  place  them  in  the  open,  as  before.  Dur- 
ing extreme  dry  weather  they  will  naturally  be 
much  benefited  by  an  occasional  watering  and 
mulching.  No  one  who  cares  for  flowers  will 
grudge  the  little  trouble  and  trifling  cost  of  a 
violet-bed  which  yields  its  wealth  of  blossom 
when  other  out-of-door  flowers  are  still  buried 
beneath  the  snow.  I  know  of  nothing  that  af- 
fords so  much  satisfaction  for  so  little  pains. 
Marie  Louise  is  incomparably  the  most  fragrant, 
floriferous,  and  satisfactory  variety  for  hot-bed 
culture. 

From  the  adjoining  hill-side  at  nightfall  I 
hear  the  weird  nocturne  of  the  small  screech- 
owl.  A  pair  has  always  had  its  abode  in  the 
covert,  in  company  with  the  red  squirrels  that 


13 


bark  so  fiercely  at  the  falling  nuts  in  autumn. 
They  each  give  an  air  of  wildness  to  the  sur- 
roundings, and  one  feels  as  if  the  trees  had 
found  an  expressive  voice.  I  can  not  compre- 
hend why  the  owl  should  invariably  be  associ- 
ated with  gloom  and  deeds  of  evil,  or  that  his 
voice  should  allow  us  to  forget  for  a  moment  his 
accomplishments  as  a  mouser.  When  other 
birds  have  deserted  us,  and  even  the  squirrel 
remains  in  his  hollow  tree,  the  cry  of  the  owl 
rings  out  sonorously  on  the  winter  twilight,  "  I 
am  here  !  "  Well  may  Thoreau  rejoice  that 
there  are  owls,  and  Jesse  admire  their  soft  and 
silent  flight.  Charles  Lotin  Hildreth  is  superla- 
tively the  poet-laureate  of  the  bird  of  wisdom. 
Shakespeare,  Barry  Cornwall,  Shelley,  Words- 
worth, Jean  Ingelow,  and  Tennyson  must  each 
and  all  give  place  to  his  apostrophe.  Take  the 
opening  and  the  closing  stanzas,  for  instance  : 

There  is  no  flame  of  sunset  on  the  hill, 
There  is  no  flush  of  twilight  in  the  plain  ; 

The  day  is  dead,  the  wind  is  weird  and  shrill  ; 
Amid  the  gloom  the  sheeted  shapes  of  rain 

Glide  to  and  fro  with  stealthy  feet  and  still, 
And,  wilder  than  the  wood's  autumnal  moan, 
A  voice  wails  through  the  night,  "  Alone,  alone  !  M 

Night  deepens  on  the  haggard  close  of  day 
With  wilder  clamor  of  the  wind  and  rain  ; 


14  Clje  Barton's  Storj. 

Louder  the  beaten  branches  groan  and  sway  ; 
And  fitfully  the  voice  comes  once  again, 

Across  the  fields,  more  faint  and  far  away. 
Is  it  the  dark  bird's  wailing  backward  blown, 
Or  my  own  heart  that  cries,  "  Alone,  alone  !  " 

The  snow  is  fast  retreating  despite  the  raw 
March  winds,  though  St.  Patrick  and  the  vernal 
equinox  have  yet  to  engage  in  their  accustomed 
brawl.  Indeed,  St.  Patrick  never  comes  in  with- 
out brandishing  his  blackthorn.  As  'tis  an  ill 
wind  turns  none  to  good,  so  the  dreaded  equi- 
noctial is  not  without  its  advantages.  Not  hav- 
ing Blasius  for  authority,  I  can  not  tell  why  it  is 
so ;  nevertheless,  the  weather-vane  of  the  equi- 
nox for  the  three  days  of  its  duration  is  an  index 
to  the  character  of  the  weather  for  the  succeed- 
ing two  or  three  months.  A  puzzling  rule  of 
three,  no  doubt,  but  why  not  as  probable  as  that 
three  consecutive  white  frosts  are  a  never-failing 
sign  of  rain  ?  To  be  more  explicit,  the  general 
direction  of  the  wind  and  character  of  the  weath- 
er during  the  several  equinoxes  would  seem  to 
be  followed  during  the  greater  portion  of  the 
next  quarter  of  the  year  by  a  like  general  direc- 
tion of  the  wind  and  character  of  weather. 

Avant-couriers  of  spring  continue  to  blos- 
som diurnally  through  the  post,  in  the  shape  of 
flower  and  vegetable  catalogues.  These  unfold 


Kit  &ntfcf.patfon.  15 


some  interesting  studies  in  form,  and  reveal  new 
possibilities  of  color.  Many  of  the  covers  seem 
Koula  .rugs  transformed  into  card-board ;  and 
the  hideous  greens,  saffrons,  and  magentas  that 
gape  from  the  Anatolias  in  the  carpet-store  win- 
dows appear  to  have  been  lavishly  borrowed  to 
heighten  the  effect  of  the  foliage  and  fruit  of 
some  new  strain  of  gourd,  ruta-baga,  or  colossal 
onion.  The  most  powerful  appeal  of  the  season 
is  a  full-page  plate  of  liver-colored  tomatoes  and 
zinnias  in  combination.  In  another  distinctly 
aesthetic  overture,  a  plant  of  the  Ipomaa  tribe, 
sent  out  under  the  name  of  moon-flower,  has 
embowered  an  entire  cottage ;  while  the  moon 
itself,  represented  as  rising  in  the  horizon,  shines 
only  with  a  borrowed  splendor  in  the  presence 
of  this  high-class  luminary.  When  the  cata- 
logue informs  one,  in  addition,  that  "  the  flowers, 
when  unfolding,  expand  so  rapidly  as  to  be 
plainly  seen,  affording  amusement  and  instruc- 
tion, and  that,  being  a  free  bloomer,  the  effect 
on  a  moonlight  night  is  charming,"  the  reader 
need  no  longer  doubt  the  advent  of  the  floral 
millennium. 

Surely  it  is  the  weather  that  the  crows  have 
been  denouncing  so  vehemently  for  several  even- 
ings from  their  roost  in  the  immediate  vicinity. 
If  we  have  not  the  rook,  I  am  glad  we  have  his 


1 6  iTlir  (Kartell's  -Stovn. 

larger  Plutonian  cousin.  His  dusky  shadow  and 
husky  bass  have  a  charm  of  their  own,  and  har- 
monize with  the  bleakness  of  early  spring  and 
the  somberness  of  late  autumn.  Apart  from  the 
pestiferous  English  sparrow,  the  crow  supplies 
almost  our  only  winter  voice.  I  place  him  with 
the  black  hellebore  or  Christmas-rose — a  very 
good  thing  to  have  until  there  is  something  bet- 
ter to  take  his  place.  The  Ettrick  Shepherd 
should  have  substituted  the  crow-blackbird  when 
he  said,  "The  crow  is  down  in  the  devil's  book 
in  round  hand."  I  am  glad  to  hear  Phil  Robin* 
son  say  he  should  be  reluctant  to  deny  this  bird 
every  one  of  the  virtues ;  and  John  Burroughs 
exclaim  :  "  I  love  him  ;  he  is  a  character  I  would 
not  willingly  miss  from  the  landscape." 

The  advance-guard  of  the  robins  has  come, 
behind  its  usual  time,  but  their  reception  has 
been  too  cold  as  yet  to  expect  them  to  proclaim 
their  presence  in  an  audible  manner.  For  the 
robins'  silence  the  sparrows  are  doing  double 
duty.  I  shall  have  to  set  my  long  pole  in  mo- 
tion again,  and  banish  them  from  the  front 
verandas  to  those  of  my  neighbors.  Birds,  it 
is  well  known,  will  not  endure  being  disturbed 
from  their  roosts  ;  and  one  or  two  dislodgments 
after  nightfall  will  suffice  to  rout  even  the  spar- 
row, although  he  is  so  disgustingly  numerous 


En  0ntfcfpatfon.  17 

that  there  are  soon  others  ready  to  take  his  place 
as  public  defilers.  Too  cunning  to  be  poisoned, 
a  light  charge  of  No.  12  shot  is  the  best  means 
of  allaying  his  obstreperous  cry.  I  usually  leave 
the  corpses  of  the  chief  offenders,  the  noisiest 
among  the  cock  birds,  in  some  conspicuous 
place  for  a  day  or  two,  and  the  matutinal  tom- 
tom in  the  sugar-maple  near  my  sleeping-room 
gives  place  to  a  sense  of  delicious  repose.  One 
of  the  necessities  of  the  hour  is  a  noiseless  pow- 
der, and  a  practical  sparrow -gun,  light  and 
cheap  enough  to  be  generally  utilized.  A  twelve- 
gauge  gun  answers  the  purpose,  save  for  the 
loudness  of  the  report ;  and  a  small  rifle  is 
effective,  but  the  successful  use  ot  this  requires 
too  much  skill  to  meet  the  popular  demand. 
Through  the  means  proposed,  no  one  need  be 
disturbed  except  the  chief  offender,  and  a  liberal 
supply  of  cartridges  would  perceptibly  rid  one 
of  his  loathsome  presence.  "  The  sparrow  car- 
ries no  purse,"  says  Phil  Robinson,  "  for  he 
steals  all  he  wants ;  and  his  name  is  in  no  di- 
rectory, for  his  address  is  the  world."  If  Bry- 
ant lived  to-day,  he  would  assuredly  change  his 
false  refrain,  "  The  Old- World  sparrow  is  wel- 
come here."  An  anonymous  writer  voices  a 
charming  sentiment :  "  Cursed  be  the  man — the 
enemy  of  the  peace  of  all  civilized  Americans — 


1 8  rt)t  Garten's  Storp. 

who  imported  them  !  He  should  be  incinerated, 
and  his  ashes  blown  by  the  four  winds  to  the 
four  quarters  of  the  globe." 

The  melancholy  fact  exists,  notwithstanding, 
that  the  sparrow  is  here,  and  stands  urgently-in 
need  of  a  prescription.  He  has  succeeded  in  his 
dual  role  of  harassing  both  mankind  and  his 
own  desirable  congeners.  One  by  one  he  has 
driven  away  the  song-birds  from  our  home- 
steads, appropriating  the  nesting-places  of  the 
wren,  the  bluebird,  and  others,  whose  presence 
was  invaluable  in  the  orchard  and  among  small 
fruits.  The  oriole  still  remains,  concealed  by 
the  apple-bloom,  or  comparatively  secure  from 
assault  in  his  rocking-chair  in  the  elm.  The 
song-sparrow  and  purple  martin  are  diminishing 
yearly,  the  robin,  blackbird,  and  oriole  alone 
being  able  to  resist  his  malicious  persecution. 
In  like  manner,  the  Rocky  Mountain  trout  has 
been  placed  in  streams  tenanted  by  the  speckled 
trout,  only  to  override  and  diminish  a  superior 
game-fish.  Can  not  the  champions  of  the  Eng- 
lish sparrow  people  the  country  with  the  Austra- 
lian rabbit,  or  disseminate  the  Swiss  goitre,  as 
an  act  of  philanthropy  ?  A  State  or  Govern- 
ment bounty  on  the  sparrow's  head  would  help 
to  thin  his  polygamous  brood  ;  his  slaughter  for 
"  potted  game  "  would  add  largely  to  the  score  ; 


£-n  Slntfcfpatfon.  19 

the  sportsman's  trap  might  ingulf  him  by  the 
thousands  ;  and  wholesale  netting,  as  practiced 
abroad,  would  well  reward  those  who  supply  the 
restaurant  larder.  The  shrike,  or  butcher-bird, 
is  an  admirable  matador  so  far  as  he  goes,  and 
would,  no  doubt,  end  in  exterminating  him,  with 
man's  assistance,  did  he  exist  in  sufficient  num- 
bers. Let  us  pray,  meanwhile,  for  the  advent  of 
a  sparrow-bug,  or  Passer-aphis — some  insect- 
scourge  such  as  besets  the  inanimate  world — to 
aid  in  delivering  us  from  this  feathered  Philis- 
tine. 

The  chimney-swallows,  which  last  summer 
awakened  me  with  their  chattering  and  whirring 
in  the  chimney,  at  all  times  of  the  night  and 
early  morning,  will  trouble  me  no  more.  A  wire 
screen  placed  across  the  top  of  the  chimney  has 
rendered  a  little  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep 
possible  at  five  in  the  morning.  The  chorus  of 
the  Hylodes,  or  peepers,  is  yet  in  store — that 
piercing  treble  launched  against  the  quiet  nights 
of  early  spring  that  nothing— even  the  katydid — 
can  equal  in  strident  intensity,  and  that  no  earth- 
ly power  can  still.  Fancy  attempting  to  go  to 
sleep  in  a  country  house  near  a  swampful  of 
these  shrieking  demons !  "  It  is  a  plaintive 
sound,  a  pure  spring  melody,"  says  Burroughs, 
for  once  apparently  forgetting  himself,  or  led 


2O  C!)e  (Sarfcen's  <2btor». 

astray  by  its  association  with  spring.  But  he 
sets  us  comparatively  at  ease  by  stating  that 
there  is  a  Southern  species  heard,  when  you  have 
reached  the  Potomac,  "  whose  note  is  far  more 
harsh  and  crackling.  To  stand  on  the  verge  of 
a  swamp  vocal  with  these,  pains  and  stuns  the 
ear.  The  call  of  the  Northern  species  is  far 
more  tender  and  musical."  It  is  at  least  some 
consolation  to  know  there  are  others  worse  off 
than  ourselves. 

The  uproarious  crow-blackbird,  too,  is  sure 
to  return  to  the  Lombardy  poplars  in  April.  A 
volley  of  coarse  shot  alone  can  drown  his  dis- 
cordant gutturals,  which  he  hurls  at  you  in  utter 
disregard  of  the  exquisite  sensitiveness  of  the 
human  tympanum.  Fortunately  for  mankind, 
he  is  less  numerous  than  the  nauseous  sparrow, 
or  deafness  were  necessarily  the  all-prevailing 
malady.  How  many  of  these  oral  miseries  there 
are  awaiting  us!  It  is  enough  to  develop  a 
gouty  diathesis  to  think  of  them. 

The  blue-jay  is  almost  always  referred  to  as 
the  most  discordant  among  the  birds,  while  little 
fault  is  found  with  the  harsh  voice  of  the  grackle 
or  crow-blackbird.  Compared  with  the  latter, 
the  jay  is  a  paragon  in  manners,  dress,  and 
every  characteristic,  unless  we  except  his  habit 
of  pilfering  the  nests  of  his  neighbors.  His 


En  ^ntfcfpatfon.  21 

voice  certainly  has  a  meaning  from  his  vantage 
in  the  tree-tops.  It  is  emphatically  a  cry  of 
warning,  uttered  loud  enough  for  every  feather 
in  the  forest  to  hear,  that  an  enemy  is  intruding 
upon  the  sacred  domain.  His  crest  of  sapphire 
would  atone  for  his  shrill  clarion,  were  not  the 
meaning  of  his  cry  a  sufficient  excuse  in  itself. 
The  grackle,  on  the  other  hand,  only  screams 
incessantly  to  hear  himself  scream,  and  to  drown 
the  voices  of  the  song-birds. 

In  Harris's  "  Treatise  on  Insects  injurious  to 
Vegetation,"  the  crow-blackbird  is  made  to  pose 
as  a  public  benefactor.  The  reader,  at  first 
shocked  by  the  statement  that  "  few  persons, 
while  indulging  in  the  luxury  of  early  green 
peas,  are  aware  how  many  insects  they  uncon- 
sciously swallow,"  is  somewhat  relieved  later  on 
by  being  told  that  these  "  buggy  peas  "  contain, 
in  the  first  instance,  a  minute  whitish  grub, 
which  larva  is  changed  to  a  pupa  within  its  hole 
in  the  pea  in  the  autumn,  and  before  spring 
casts  its  skin  again,  becoming  a  beetle  (Bruchus 
pzsi),  only  to  fly  out  into  the  awaiting  maw 
of  the  crow-blackbird  !  "  Buggy  peas,"  I  admit, 
do  not  sound  appetizing  at  first  hearing ;  still, 
were  we  to  draw  the  line  at  such  trifles,  I  fear 
our  vegetable  diet  would  necessarily  be  greatly 
restricted.  So  long  as  we  eat  the  insects  with 


22  5Tf)e  (iKarfcen's  Storrj. 

the  special  vegetables  they  infest,  there  can  be 
but  little  objection.  The  strawberry  and  rasp- 
berry parasites  are,  certainly,  exceptions ;  for  no 
one  could  taste  and  swallow  more  than  one  of 
either,  and  live  to  tell  the  tale.  The  mushroom- 
worm,  the  cabbage-louse,  the  lettuce-hopper,  the 
Brussels-sprout  thrip,  and  dozens  of  other  jump- 
ing, wriggling  things  which  the  cook  sends  to 
table,  possess  invariably  the  exact  flavor  of  the 
several  vegetables  they  garnish.  It  would  only 
be  by  serving  the  wrong  or  foreign  insects  with 
a  particular  dish  that  any  gastronomical  syncre- 
tism could  result.  The  argumentum  ad  g  id  am 
advanced  for  the  existence  of  the  crow-black- 
bird is,  therefore,  untenable,  and  I  fail  to  dis- 
cover any  excuse  for  allowing  him  to  usurp  the 
place  of  the  starling,  with  whom  he  is  forever 
quarreling. 

Another  blanket  of  snow  has  been  heaped 
upon  us,  just  as  the  previous  vestiges  had  dis- 
appeared and  there  were  hopes  of  an  end  to 
the  interminable  hibernation.  It  was  a  halting 
philosopher  who  termed  snow  the  poor  man's 
manure,  for  want  of  a  proper  definition.  The 
ammonia  it  contains  one  might  better  be  with- 
out at  this  season,  when  every  shrub,  plant,  and 
grass-blade  is  crying  for  the  caress  of  the  rain. 
Apparently  the  snow  came  from  the  asperous 


En  Sntfcfpatfon.  23 

east.  I  have  wondered  why  the  east  wind 
should  be  so  unkind,  coming,  as  it  does,  from 
lands  sentient  \vith  sunshine  and  steeped  in 
tropic  warmth.  A  wind  like  Ruskin's  "  plague- 
wind,  made  of  dead  men's  souls — such  of  them 
as  are  not  gone  yet  where  they  have  to  go,  and 
may  be  flitting  hither  and  thither,  doubting 
themselves  of  the  fittest  place  for  them."  I  find 
the  east  wind  has  been  grossly  maligned  ;  it  is 
the  west  wind  that  bears  the  venom  of  Boreas  and 
the  stratus-cloud  in  its  icy  breath,  surging  on  an 
upper  current  of  the  atmosphere,  and  coming 
only  in  appearance  from  the  east  on  a  counter 
under-current  of  air.  The  Rocky  Mountains  are 
the  real  seat  of  the  dreaded  "  easterly  "  storm, 
and  they — not  the  east  wind — deserve  our  strict- 
ures. 

In  point  of  viciousness  and  duration  the  pres- 
ent equinox  exceeds  any  other  I  have  known. 
The  chanticleer  on  my  neighbor's  house-top  has 
been  whisking  seemingly  from  each  point  of  the 
compass  at  once ;  and  every  variety  of  weather, 
from  an  east  wind  bitter  as  quassia  to  the  most 
brutal  of  westerly  blizzards,  has  raged  unremit- 
tingly for  six  days.  I  defy  even  Sir  Admiral 
Fitzroy  to  forecast  the  weather  from  so  hetero- 
geneous a  horoscope — a  combination  of  winds 
that  has  blown  evil  to  me  and  good  to  my  al- 


24  Ct)c  (Kartell's 


lopathic  doctor,  whom  I  shall  exchange  for  a 
homoeopathist  if  I  survive  to  undergo  another 
vernal  equinox  in  this  latitude.  Without  a  word 
of  'warning,  I  awoke  in  the  night  with  the  sensa- 
tion of  having  been  pounded  in  a  mortar,  and 
with  a  Spanish  chestnut-burr  sticking  in  my 
throat.  I  never  realized  before  what  the  inno- 
cent-looking yellowish  mixture  was  that  he  pre- 
scribed for  the  children—  potash  and  iron—  with 
which  he  has  been  deluging  me  almost  hourly, 
night  and  day.  A  doctor  ought  to  be  exiled  for 
forcing  such  revolting  stuff  upon  helpless  pa- 
tients—a remedy  which  is  almost  worse  than 
the  disease.  Hugh  Miller's  "  Testimony  of  the 
Rocks,"  or  Borden  Bowne's  "  Studies  in  The- 
ism," would  be  a  delicious  lenitive,  in.  compari- 
son. If  I  live,  I  shall  find  out  whether  his  state- 
ment is  true  :  that  it  is  the  great  catholicon  for 
diphtheritic  and  laryngeal  troubles,  and  that 
nothing  else  can  disperse  the  dusky  spots  on 
one's  throat,  or  cause  the  white  ones  to  "ex- 
foliate," as  he  pathologically  expresses  it.  It 
was  an  exhilaration  to  me,  with  all  sense  of 
taste  and  smell  temporarily  destroyed  through 
his  vile  prescription,  to  learn  that  he  had  an 
allopathic  doctor  under  treatment,  and  was  dos- 
ing him  in  the  same  wholesale  manner  that  he 
was  medicating  and  mending  me. 


fin  Slntfcfpatfon.  25 

I  shudder  when  I  think  of  the  books  I  ought 
to  "assimilate,"  directly  and  indirectly,  in  con- 
nection with  the  subject  of  gardening.  Think 
of  it !  Darwin's  "  Vegetable  Mold  and  Earth- 
Worms,"  Dyer's  "  Natural  History  of  a  Flow- 
ering Plant,"  Harris's  "Talks  on  Manures," 
Warder's  "  Hedges  and  Evergreens,"  Darwin's 
"  Climbing  Plants,"  Berthold  Seemann's  "  Re- 
vision of  the  Natural  Order  Hederaceae,"  Ben- 
tham  and  Hooker's  "  Genera  Plantarum  ad  Ex- 
emplaria  imprimis  in  Herbariis  Kewensibus  ser- 
vata  definita,"  Loudon,  Downing,  Lindley — there 
is,  apparently,  no  end  to  them. 

The  illustrations  of  the  unabridged  diction- 
aries, too,  that  one  is  forced  to  encounter ;  the 
cuts  of  the  snakes  and  the  reptiles  that  are  coiled 
around  every  other  page  of  a  book  one  is  com- 
pelled to  read  !  One  always  opens  the  diction- 
ary at  the  snake  pages,  or  is  confronted  with  a 
growling  peccary,  a  hooded  basilisk,  a  Mephitis 
Americana,  or  open-mouthed  crocodile,  to  pro- 
mote a  shiver  that  is  liable  to  develop  into  bron- 
chitis. The  most  barbarous  words,  likewise, 
seem  always  placed  at  the  top  of  the  page  in 
staring  capitals — medical  and  scientific  terms 
one  must  perforce  swallow,  even  though  the 
dose  be  nauseating.  The  serpent  and  lizard 
appear  to  be  the  favorites  of  the  lexicogra- 
3 


26  5Tf)e  CSartien's 


phers  ;  I  find  no  cut  of  the  fruit  which  tempted 
Eve.  As  to  the  flower  and  tree  illustrations, 
the  representations  that  have  served  to  portray 
Lilium  bulbiferum,  the  magnolia,  and  the  weep- 
ing-willow, are  past  praying  for.  They  have  all 
done  valiant  duty,  and  deserve  to  be  placed  upon 
the  retired  list  with  a  liberal  pension. 

The  gardener  has  just  called,  bringing  the 
cut  flowers  and  his  summary  resignation  at  the 
same  time.  He,  too,  has  caught  the  spring 
fever  and  desires  a  change.  How  we  will  miss 
his  Brussels-sprouts  and  endive.  He  was  worth 
having  for  his  success  in  vegetables  alone  ;  he 
knew  enough  to  cut  asparagus  close  to  the 
ground  without  being  told,  and  his  heads  of 
cauliflower  were  so  delicious  au  gratin  !  What 
is  to  become  of  all  the  spring  work,  meanwhile, 
which  comes  upon  one  so  suddenly  when  it  final- 
ly does  come  ?  Think  of  ail  the  flower-borders 
that  have  to  be  uncovered,  the  leaves  to  be  raked 
up  and  carried  to  the  pile  of  leaf-mold,  the 
spring-manuring  and  spading,  the  seed-  sowing 
and  pruning,  the  lawn-raking  and  rolling,  and 
the  general  cleaning  and  overhauling  !  If  I  take 
a  hand  in  it  myself,  there  is  always  the  danger 
of  catching  cold,  and  not  for  worlds  would  I 
undergo  another  medication.  I  must  get  Cas- 
per, the  former  German  gardener,  back  again, 


*n  acntfcfpatron. 


What  if  he  did  let  the  greenhouse  plants  be- 
come a  prey  to  the  red  spider? — he  was  always 
so  good-humored,  and  accomplished  so  much! 
Your  short,  burly,  broad-backed  gardeners  some- 
how always  work  easily  and  quickly ;  they  have 
not  so  far  to  bend  over;  the  weeds  jump  up  to 
them,  and  they  handle  a  rake  as  if  it  loved  them. 
A  Mecklenburger  for  work  and  an  Irishman  for 
blarney. 

The  long-awaited  change  has  come  at  last — 
the  promise  the  wild  geese  flying  north  chorused 
from  the  upper  air.  Song-sparrow,  bluebird, 
meadow-lark,  plover,  and  redv/ing  have  dropped 
down  suddenly  and  simultaneously  from  the  sky, 
and  from  the  swamps  I  hear  the  croaking  of  the 
frogs,  eager  to  drink  of  the  first  warm  rain.  The 
scarlet  maple  (Acer  rubrum)  is  bursting  into 
bloom,  and  one  can  almost  see  the  grass  sprout- 
ing, so  thirstily  does  it  absorb  the  moisture. 
The  woodcock  have  already  returned  to  their 
summer  haunts ;  I  found  them  on  the  dry  knolls 
March  25th.  Referring  to  the  record  of  the  past 
eighteen  years,  the  tables  show  that  an  early 
spring  occurs  about  every  other  year  in  this  vi- 
cinity. In  1880  the  robin  appeared  February 
27th ;  the  bluebird  and  song-sparrow  a  day  later. 
In  1874  and  1878  they  appeared  simultaneously 
March  3d,  compared  with  March  27th,  28ths  and 


28  JTte  (Sfartien's 


29th  in  1885.  In  1880  and  1882  the  scarlet 
maple  blossomed  March  2d  ;  in  1872,  1873,  and 
1879,  April  loth;  in  1885,  April  2Oth.  The 
earliest  pipings  were  sounded  from  the  marshes 
March  9th  in  1877  and  1878;  the  latest,  April 
20th  in  1885  and  April  I4th  in  1874.  The  earli- 
est high  temperatures  recorded  were  those  of 
March  31,  1875,  69°;  March  27,  1882,  64°; 
April  23,  1885,  90°. 

Compared  with  previous  seasons,  therefore, 
the  present  has  been  no  worse  than  the  average. 
One  must  needs  be  grateful  for  the  meager  pit- 
tance March  doles  out  in  the  way  of  blue  skies 
and  stray  shadows  on  the  garden  dial.  The  last 
few  days  of  tfie  month  have  been  prodigal  of 
sunlight  ;  and  see,  the  urn  of  the  first  crocus 
already  flaunts  its  hoarded  gold  to  herald  the 
returning  flowers  of  spring  ! 


(Dntline  of  tl)e 


Every  wyse  man  that  wysely  would  learn  anything,  shall 
chiefly  go  about  that  whereunto  he  knoweth  well  that  he  shall 
never  come.  In  every  crafte  there  is  a  perfect  excellency 
which  may  be  better  known  in  a  man's  mind  than  followed  in 
a  man's  deede.  This  perfectnesse,  because  it  is  generally  layed 
as  a  broad,  wyde  example  afore  all  men,  no  one  particular 
man  is  able  to  compasse. — ROGER  ASCHAM. 


II 


AN   OUTLINE    OF   THE   GARDEN. 


ASCHAM  might  have  alluded 
to  gardening  when  he  penned  the 
foregoing  lines.  The  art  of  garden- 
ing is  comparatively  easy  in  theory  ;  its  consum- 
mation is  more  difficult  in  the  vsoil.  And  it  is 
not  unlikely  we  shall  find  the  author  of  "  The 
Scholemaster  "  easier  to  read  between  the  lines 
than  appears  at  first  sight,  in  the  interval  that 
shall  elapse  between  the  matins  of  the  first 
snow-drop  bells  and  the  vespers  from  the  last 
monk's-hood  spire. 

I  write  of  the  hardy  flower-garden.  This 
may  be  large  or  small,  though,  beyond  a  certain 
indispensable  area,  its  perfected  beauty  depends 
not  so  much  upon  mere  size  as  upon  intelligent 
treatment.  A  small  plot  properly  laid  out,  judi- 
ciously planted,  and  kept  in  finished  order,  will 
produce  more  satisfactory  results  than  ten  times 


32  C|)e  eSartcn's  Storj. 

the  space  poorly  cultivated  and  insufficiently 
maintained,  It  is  essentially  a  garden  maxim, 
that  whatever  is  worth  doing  at  all  is  worth 
doing  well.  So  that,  first  of  all,  the  grounds 
should  be  no  larger  than  can  be  properly  looked 
after.  Grass-grown  walks,  untrimmed  edgings, 
a  lawn  run  to  weeds,  at  once  proclaim  the  un- 
tidy gardener,  and  detract  from  the  best  efforts 
of  the  flowers  themselves.  I  do  not  speak  of 
the  stiff,  formal  garden,  divided  into  methodical 
squares,  where  everything  must  be  equally  bal- 
anced ;  or  of  "  bedding-out,"  "  carpet,"  or  "  rib- 
bon '  gardening.  I  speak  of  the  hardy  flower- 
garden,  where,  in  its  effect  as  a  whole,  a  sense 
of  tidiness  combined  with  natural  grace  of  out- 
line and  harmony  of  grouping  should  prevail. 
If  the  space  be  too  large  to  be  perfectly  main- 
tained, diminish  it ;  but  let  whatever  space  there 
may  be  under  cultivation  suffer  no  neglect  or 
show  no  parsimony  of  care. 

No  arbitrary  rules  will  suffice  to  produce  a 
perfect  garden,  for,  in  the  very  nature  of  things, 
no  two  gardens  can  be  just  alike.  Each  one 
should  seek  his  own  expression  in  the  combina- 
tion he  strives  for.  For  this  there  exists  infinite 
variety  of  material,  adaptable  to  the  particular 
soil,  exposure,  and  character  of  the  space  one 
would  adorn  and  idealize.  A  charming  feature 


&n  ©utlfne  of  tfje  C&arlren.  33 

of  one  garden  may  not  be  allowable  in  another, 
either  through  lack  of  space,  difference  of  expo- 
sition, or  natural  incongruity.  Thus,  a  minia- 
ture pond  for  the  cultivation  of  bog-plants — a 
delightful  feature  of  the  garden  where  it  may  be 
carried  out — can  not  be  introduced  with  propri- 
ety on  high  exposures.  Nor  can  a  bank  of  ferns 
be  placed  to  advantage  where  they  have  not  the 
coolness  and  shade  with  which  they  are  asso- 
ciated, and  without  which  they  can  not  be  satis- 
factorily grown.  In  a  large  place,  possessing  the 
resources  of  abundant  shade  and  variety  of  sur- 
face, there  are  few  desirable  effects  which  can 
not  be  produced.  Here  the  landscape-gardener 
proper  has  a  field  for  the  practice  of  his  art,  and 
the  proprietor  an  occasion  for  the  gratification  of 
his  taste.  In  small  grounds,  however,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  large  estate,  one  need  not  be  a 
Crcesus  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  gardening. 
There  is  force  in  Bacon's  statement  :  "  A  man 
shall  ever  see  that,  when  ages  grow  to  civility 
and  elegance,  man  comes  to  build  stately  sooner 
than  to  garden  finely  ;  as  if  gardening  were  the 
greater  perfection."  And  yet,  with  the  wonder- 
ful advancement  of  the  arts  in  this  country  dur- 
ing the  latter  part  of  this  century  of  progress, 
the  art  of  gardening,  it  must  be  admitted,  has 
also  shown  marked  improvement.  Occasionally 


34  £t>*  ©fartoen's 


we  find  those  who  are  content  with  a  geranium- 
bed  as  the  means  of  outward  embellishment  ; 
more  often  a  finer  perception  of  external  adorn- 
ment is  manifested,  though  Bacon's  statement 
remains  apposite  to-day.  The  objectionable 
forms  of  gardening,  however,  are  being  super- 
seded by  a  more  natural  style  —  a  revival  of  the 
old-fashioned  hardy  flower-borders,  masses  of 
stately  perennials,  the  hardy  fernery,  the  rock 
and  bog  garden,  the  azalea  and  rhododendron 
beds.  Poor  indeed  is  the  city  veranda  which 
has  not  its  Clematis  Jackmani  to  flutter  the 
purple  of  royalty,  and  lonely  the  door-yard  with- 
out its  clump  of  madonna  lilies  or  perpetual 
roses.  A  comparison  of  the  flower-catalogues 
of  to-day  with  those  of  fifteen  years  ago  shows 
beyond  contradiction  the  advancement  of  the 
cultivation  of  hardy  plants.  Notably  the  case 
with  new  varieties  of  roses  and  flowering  shrubs, 
progress  is  also  observable  with  perennial  flow- 
ers. The  tendency  of  the  age  to  cast  aside  poor 
for  better  forms,  to  resurrect  or  improve  the  old, 
includes  the  flower-garden  among  the  many 
things  to  feel  its  quickening  influence.  Material 
we  have  in  abundance  ;  it  only  remains  for  us  to 
utilize  it  and  adapt  it  to  the  ends  in  view.  To 
create  the  ideal  in  landscape  floriculture,  to  sur- 
round ourselves  with  lovely  forms  of  nature,  with 


&n  ©utlfne  of  tije  (Sfar&en.  35 

no  discords  to  jar  upon  the  sense  of  harmony, 
can  only  be  attained  by  carrying  out  the  sugges- 
tions of  nature  itself,  applying  them  with  all  their 
possibilities  of  modification,  change,  and  adapta- 
tion to  the  means  we  would  attain. 

From  the  first,  all  appearances  of  stiffness 
and  rigidity  of  outline,  whether  of  walks,  road- 
ways, or  borders,  will  be  studiously  avoided. 
The  natural  line  of  beauty  we  should  attempt  to 
reproduce.  The  placing  of  ornamental  trees 
and  shrubs  will  depend  on  the  situation  and  ex- 
posure ;  the  arrangement  and  grouping  of  flow- 
ers and  foliage-plants,  on  one's  sense  of  color  and 
correct  interpretation  of  effects. 

I  like  the  hardy  shrub  border,  the  low-grow- 
ing and  comparatively  less  robust  shrubs,  for  a 
screen  next  the  highway ;  for  no  garden,  I  think, 
can  be  satisfactory  without  privacy.  Glimpses 
of  the  interior  may  be  afforded  the  passer-by, 
but  retirement  and  shade  constitute  two  of  the 
greatest  charms  of  the  garden.  The  hardy  shrub 
border  combines  privacy  and  beauty.  In  it  I 
would  have,  among  others,  for  the  larger  sub- 
jects, the  Japan  quinces  ;  many  of  the  Deutztas  ; 
the  common  barberry,  for  its  colored  fruit  in  au- 
tumn ;  the  purple-leaved,  for  its  effective  foliage  ; 
the  light-colored  althaeas,  or  rose  of  Sharon  ;  the 
Calycanthus,  or  sweet-scented  shrub,  for  its  fra- 


36  &f)e  CSfarfcen's  Sstorg. 

grance ;  the  large-flowered  and  changeable  hy- 
drangea ;  the  dwarf  and  golden-leaved  syringas, 
or  mock-orange  ;  the  double-flowering  Prunus ; 
the  spiraeas  in  variety  ;  the  fragrant  Ribes,  or 
yellow  flowering  currant ;  some  of  the  small- 
er lilacs ;  the  dwarf  sweet-scented  Magnolia 
Halleana  ;  the  Exochorda,  the  Daphne  meze- 
reum,  the  variegated  dogwood,  the  white  Wei- 
gela,  the  purple-leaved  plum,  the  cut-leaved  su- 
mac, the  golden,  fern-leaved,  and  cut-leaved  elder. 
Such  strong-growing  subjects  as  the  For- 
sythias,  the  large  magnolias,  the  snow-ball,  and 
the  lilac  are  apt  to  domineer  over  their  compan- 
ions. If  possible,  they  should  be  placed  by 
themselves  where  they  may  have  abundance  of 
room  to  develop  their  full  beauty.  Even  with 
most  of  the  less  robust  examples  I  have  enumer- 
ated, the  pruning-knife  must  be  applied  at  the 
proper  season,  to  keep  them  shapely  and  within 
bounds.  It  should  always  be  remembered  that 
each  shrub  has  its  characteristic  habit  of  growth. 
This  should  be  retained,  so  far  as  possible.  To 
trim  all  shrubs  alike,  is  to  ruin  their  beauty  and 
mar  their  natural  grace  of  outline.  Judicious 
pruning,  to  promote  health  and  vigor,  is  neces- 
sary. Old  growth  requires  thinning  out  occa- 
sionally, and  obtrusive  root-sprouts  and  suckers 
need  to  be  removed.  Althaeas,  spiraeas,  lilacs,  and 


&n  ©utlfrte  of  tfte  CKarfcen.  37 

honeysuckles  may  be  trimmed  early  in  spring. 
Deutzias,  Forsythias,  mock-oranges,  and  Wei- 
gelas  flower  on  the  wood  of  the  preceding  year's 
growth,  and  should  be  pruned  after  June  flower- 
ing, when  the  old  wood  may  be  shortened  or  cut 
out.  Evergreens  may  be  pruned  in  April  or 
May,  to  thicken  the  growth  and  preserve  shape. 
Happily,  the  practice  of  shaving  trees  and  shrubs, 
the  art  of  "  verdant  sculpture,"  is  less  common 
than  formerly.  Legitimately  used  to  assist 
Nature,  the  pruning-knife  becomes  a  valuable 
assistant ;  too  often  it  is  the  means  of  destroy- 
ing identity  of  form. 

Of  the  scores  of  Weigelas  or  Diervillas  under 
cultivation,  I  know  of  few  to  be  recommended 
for  the  choice  collection  of  hardy  shrubs.  For 
the  most  part  the  flowers  are  of  a  displeasing 
color,  while  the  shrub  takes  up  a  large  space 
which,  with  the  "  rose-colored  "  kinds,  might  be 
occupied  to  far  better  advantage. 

For  the  dwarfer  shrubs  and  plants  of  the 
hardy  shrub  border  I  should  employ  such  sub- 
jects as  the  tree  and  herbaceous  paeonias,  the 
large  perennial  phloxes,  the  two  forms  of  the 
Japanese  anemone,  and  some  of  the  taller  lilies. 
The  tall  and  hardy  reed-like  grasses  —Ertan- 
thus  ravennce,  Eulalia  japonica  and  its  varie- 
ties— may  be  used  with  good  effect  in  both  the 


38  Ct)e  Barton's  Storn. 

shrub  and  flower  border,  though  still  more  strik- 
ing by  themselves. 

The  width  of  the  shrubbery  border  should 
depend  upon  its  length,  and  also  upon  the  ex- 
tent of  space  between  the  highway  and  the  resi- 
dence. Very  wide  borders,  where  the  frontage 
of  a  place  is  not  deep,  contract  the  grounds  and 
curtail  the  expanse  of  lawn.  Judicious  planting 
becomes  the  more  necessary  the  wider  the  bor- 
der, or  large  patches  of  bare  ground  will  obtrude. 
Very  long,  narrow  borders  are  equally  objection- 
able, and  have  a  stinted  look. 

I  take  it  for  granted  the  lawn  will  receive 
the  consideration  it  deserves.  Undoubtedly  the 
most  important  element  of  beauty  of  the  grounds, 
without  it  all  other  forms  of  embellishment  go  for 
little.  Green  is  the  natural  relief  of  floral  color ; 
and  in  no  way  does  floral  color  stand  revealed 
so  vividly  as  when  set  off  by  a  perfect  sward. 
To  form  a  perfect  lawn, 

ful  thikke  of  gras,  ful  softe  and  swete, 

requires  pains.  The  soil  must  neither  be  too 
poor  nor  too  rich,  but  contain  a  sufficient  depth 
of  good  garden  soil  to  insure  against  drying  out 
during  hot  weather.  Above  all,  earth  removed 
in  excavating,  usually  composed  of  clay  or  gravel, 
should  never  be  used  for  surface  soil,  as  is  not 


&n  ©utlfne  of  ttjc  ®JartJcn.  39 

unfrequently  the  case.  Jealous  guard  should  be 
kept,  when  sewer  or  other  excavations  are  made 
at  any  time,  that  the  subsoil  be  not  left  upon  the 
surface,  or  dry  grass  patches  will  invariably  show 
themselves  with  the  first  hot  weather. 

With  what  grasses  should  the  turf  be  formed  ? 
This  has  been  answered  a  great  many  times  in 
a  great  many  ways.  Assuming  that  the  sower 
knows  precisely  what  kind  of  seed  he  would  sow, 
the  difficulty  arises  of  procuring  pure  seeds  of 
the  species  desired  ;  the  only  sure  way  is  to  have 
the  seeds  tested  by  an  expert.  I  quote  two  au- 
thorities on  the  best  grasses  for  the  lawn. 

W.  J.  Beal :  "  Two  sorts  of  fine  Agrostis  are 
sold  under  the  trade  name  of  Rhode  Island  bent, 
and,  as  trade  goes,  we  may  consider  ourselves 
lucky  if  we  get  even  the  coarser  one.  The  finest, 
a  little  the  finest — Agrostis  canina — is  a  rather 
rare,  valuable,  and  elegant  little  grass,  which 
should  be  much  better  known  by  grass  farmers 
as  well  as  gardeners  than  it  is.  The  grass  usu- 
ally sold  as  Rhode  Island  bent  is  Agrostis  vul- 
gar is,  the  smaller  red-top  of  the  East  and  of 
Europe.  This  makes  an  excellent  lawn.  Agros- 
tis canina  has  a  short,  slender,  projecting  awn 
from  one  of  the  glumes ;  Agrostis  vulgaris  lacks 
this  projecting  awn.  In  neither  case  have  we 
in  mind  what  Michigan  and  New  York  people 


40  2Tt)e  (SarUen's 


call  red-top.  This  is  a  tall,  coarse  native  grass, 
often  quite  abundant  on  low  lands,  botanically 
Agrostis  alba.  Sow  small  red-top,  or  Rhode 
Island  bent,  and  June  grass  (Kentucky  blue- 
grass,  if  you  prefer  that  name),  Poa  pratensis. 
If  in  the  chaff,  sow  in  any  proportion  you  fancy, 
and  in  any  quantity  up  to  four  bushels  per  acre. 
If  evenly  sown,  less  will  answer;  but  the  thicker 
it  is  sown  the  sooner  the  ground  will  be  covered 
with  fine  green  grass.  We  can  add  nothing  else 
that  will  improve  this  mixture,  and  either  alone 
is  about  as  good  as  both.  Under  no  circum- 
stances sow  a  little  oats  or  rye  '  to  protect  the 
young  grass.'  Instead  of  protecting,  they  will 
rob  the  slender  grasses  of  what  they  most  need." 
Daniel  Batchelor  :  "  As  to  the  grasses  best 
adapted  to  soils  and  situations,  it  may  first  be 
said  that  a  wet  soil  is  hardly  to  be  considered  as 
a  fit  situation  for  a  lawn  ;  nevertheless,  there  are 
places  where  a  moist  condition  of  the  soil  can 
not  well  be  avoided,  and  for  such  the  best  grasses 
are  Poa  trivialis,  or  rough-stalk  meadow-grass  ; 
Alopecarus  pratensis,  or  meadow  fox-tail  ;  and 
Agrostis  vulgaris,  or  red-top.  For  average  good 
soil  I  have  had  the  best  results  from  a  seeding, 
in  about  equal  proportions,  of  Poa  pratensis, 
or  Kentucky  blue-grass  ;  Festuca  duriscula,  or 
hard  fescue  ;  Agrostis  cam'na,  or  creeping  bent  ; 


&n  ©utlfne  of  rfje  (&arlJen.  41 

Cynosurts  cristatus,  or  crested  dog's-tail ;  and 
Lolium  Paceyi,  or  Pacey  dwarf  rye-grass.  The 
two  last  named  are  especially  adapted  to  light, 
dry  soils,  as  they  are  deep-rooted  and  very 
fibrous,  and  will  continue  green  in  the  driest 
of  weather,  even  when  the  Kentucky  blue  is  ap- 
parently dead.  I  may  here  state  that  there  are 
hundreds  of  bushels  of  English  rye  grass-seed 
imported  and  sold  for  Pacey 's  dwarf  rye,  but  it 
is  a  cheat,  as  the  former  is  not  hardy  in  our  cli- 
mate. Pacey's  is  quite  a  hardy  variety,  and  is, 
I  think,  of  Scottish  origin ;  at  any  rate,  it  is  one 
of  the  best  grasses  for  either  lawn  or  sheep- 
pasture. 

"  Some  persons  recommend,  in  mixtures,  such 
grasses  as  the  Festuca  ovz'na,  or  sheep's  fescue, 
and  the  Festuca  tenuifolia,  or  slender  fescue. 
I  think  that  both  of  these  are  objectionable  on 
fine  lawns,  as  they  grow  erect  and  tufty,  while 
the  leaves  are  round,  wiry,  and  sedge- like ;  the 
color,  too,  of  both  is  blue,  especially  that  of  the 
slender  fescue;  and,  altogether,  these  grasses 
look  intrusive  and  patchy  when  contrasted  with 
the  flat,  ribbon-shaped  foliage  of  those  I  have 
ventured  to  name  with  approval." 

The  addition  of  white  clover  to  whatever 
grasses  one  may  sow  is  a  matter  of  individual 
preference.  On  some  light  soils  it  is  a  most 
4 


42  Ct)e  (SarUen's  Stort?. 

valuable  adjunct,  if  not  a  necessity,  and  many 
would  not  be  without  its  sprightly  presence. 
But  of  whatever  grasses  the  lawn  may  consist, 
the  necessity  of  drainage  in  low  situations,  and 
thorough  preparation  of  the  ground  in  all  cases, 
will  be  readily  conceded.  It  is  only  in  good, 
well-drained  soil  that  the  finer  grasses  will  re- 
main verdurous  during  the  intense  heats  of  mid- 
summer. Spring  is  doubtless  preferable  to  au- 
tumn sowing,  still,  in  cases  where  it  can  be 
done,  it  is  a  positive  advantage  to  prepare  the 
ground  in  autumn,  and  allow  it  to  settle  thor- 
oughly through  the  winter.  The  addition  of  a 
small  per  cent  of  lime  at  the  outset  is  to  be  rec- 
ommended, except  on  thin,  sandy  soils.  These 
should  be  fortified  with  a  liberal  supply  of  old 
manure  and  good  loam  and  muck,  with  the  ad- 
dition of  a  sprinkling  of  quicklime.  Thorough 
rolling  previous  and  subsequent  to  seeding  is  of 
prime  importance. 

Once  formed,  it  is  a  common  error  to  sup- 
pose the  lawn  will  take  care  of  itself.  A  top- 
dressing  of  fine  compost  or  some  good  com- 
mercial fertilizer  should  be  applied  at  least  once 
every  other  year  early  in  the  spring.  Either  is 
preferable  to  manure  of  any  form,  which  is  un- 
sightly. Fresh  manure  is  especially  to  be  avoid- 
ed, if  for  no  other  reason  than  the  crop  of  weed- 


&n  ©utlfne  of  ti)e  (Sarlien.  43 

seeds  it  contains.  Inequalities  of  surface  should 
be  filled  up  with  loam  and  freshly  seeded,  and 
the  roller  be  thoroughly  applied  over  the  entire 
surface  after  raking.  Always  sow  grass-seed 
liberally.  It  is  a  mistake  to  leave  either  a  close 
or  a  heavy  sward  over  winter.  Cut  too  short, 
the  grasses  suffer;  left  too  long,  they  are  un- 
sightly and  start  slowly.  The  lawn  should  not 
be  shorn  closely  or  frequently  the  first  year; 
after  that,  frequent  mowings  are  advantageous 
where  the  shorn  grass  is  left  to  enrich  the 
sward.  Often  the  sweep  of  the  lawn  is  spoiled 
by  being  too  closely  planted  with  trees  or  shrubs, 
frequently  with  both  ;  or  by  being  cut  up  with 
flower-beds.  While  some  shade  is  very  desir- 
able, too  much  shade  is  injurious  to  the  growth 
of  grasses ;  and  close  planting  interferes  with 
the  sense  of  generous  breadth  which  the  lawn 
should  impart. 

Even  with  all  possible  pains  and  precautions 
we  are  still  without  a  perfect  lawn.  The  grand 
army  of  weeds  remains  to  be  combated— per- 
ennial pests  innumerable ;  annuals  which  sow 
themselves  a  thousand- fold  ;  plantains  voided  by 
granivorous  birds ;  purslane  traveling  on  wings 
of  the  wind ;  dandelions,  rooted  deeply  as  in- 
gratitude ;  sorrel,  lover  of  sandy  soil ;  mouse- 
ear  chickweed  ;  yarrow,  daisies,  mosses,  lichen ; 


44  Cjje  (Garten's  .Ston?. 

and  that  English  sparrow  among  the  weeds, 
crab-grass,  whose  maw  is  insatiable  and  whose 
worm  never  dies— all  these  fail  not  to  appear  at 
their  appointed  time.  Persistent  warfare  with 
the  gouge-knife  is  the  only  means  of  keeping 
down  the  perennials.  The  spreading,  self-sow- 
ing annuals  that  creep  along  stealthily,  under- 
mining the  grasses,  are  less  amenable  to  treat- 
ment, and  frequently  require  to  be  dug  up 
in  patches,  resodding  or  resowing  the  spots 
whence  they  were  removed.  All  of  these  pests, 
unpleasant  as  they  are,  we  would  willingly  ex- 
change for  the  crab-grass  (Paspalum  sangui- 
nale),  the  bane  of  American  lawns.  This  an- 
nual appears  most  disagreeably  during  August, 
at  the  time  of  its  inflorescence,  its  brownish 
stems  rising  from  large  tufts,  which  crowd  out 
the  finer  grasses,  giving  the  sward  the  appearance 
of  having  been  burned,  and  utterly  ruining  the 
appearance  of  the  turf  wherever  it  obtains  a 
foothold.  It  revels  in  drought  and  hard-pan, 
and,  like  the  horse-leech's  daughters,  cries  out 
continually,  "  Give,  give  !  "  Practically  inexter- 
minable,  the  mower  passes  over  its  wiry  stems, 
which  cling  to  the  ground  and  perfect  their  seed- 
sowing  for  another  year.  Good  soil,  abundant 
watering,  and  shade  alone  tend  to  check  it.  The 
only  thing  to  be  said  in  its  favor,  as  distinguished 


Bin  ©utlfne  of  tf)e  (Sartren.  45 

from  other  lawn  pests,  is  its  late  appearance  and 
comparatively  short  duration. 

Frequently  ants  and  the  white  grub — the 
larval  grub  of  the  May-beetle  (Lachnosterna 
fusca) — cause  no  little  damage  to  the  lawn. 
The  latter  is  not  satisfied  with  the  intolerable 
annoyance  he  causes  in  the  imago  form  by 
bumping  against  everything  he  sees,  but  already 
begins  in  the  pupa  stage  to  devour  the  roots  of 
grasses  and  valuable  plants,  blighting  everything 
his  voracious  mandibles  seize  upon  for  prey. 
Patches  of  dead  and  withered  grasses  proclaim 
his  depredations,  when  the  turf  should  be  closely 
perforated  with  a  metal  rod  to  the  depth  of  half 
a  foot,  pouring  caustic  lime  into  the  openings, 
and  resowing  the  surface  a  few  days  afterward. 

The  ant  is  fond  of  building  his  cities  on  the 
sward.  These  may  be  destroyed  by  perforating 
the  hills  and  pouring  in  a  solution  of  crude  car- 
bolic acid,  composed  of  one  pound  of  acid  to 
two  quarts  of  water.  A  gill  of  the  liquid  will 
suffice  for  an  ant-hill.  "  Tobacco  insecticide 
soap  "  is  also  efficacious.  It  is,  moreover,  excel- 
lent, when  sufficiently  diluted,  for  destroying 
ants  where  they  have  formed  their  hills  in  or 
about  plants.  We  thus  see  that  a  fine,  velvety 
sward,  like  very  many  other  desirable  things, 
has  its  price  ;  and  that,  to  carry  out  Loudon's 


46  ffftc  Garten's 


apothegm,  "  The  basis  of  all  landscape-garden- 
ing is  good  breadth  of  grassy  lawn,"  calls  for 
forethought,  pains,  and  unflagging  perseverance. 

After  the  lawn,  the  flower-border  demands 
our  attention.  And  here,  especially,  I  repeat 
with  emphasis  the  golden  rule  of  the  garden  : 
That  is  worth  doing  well  what  is  worth  doing 
at  all.  Compare  the  sickly,  starveling  flowers, 
struggling  for  bare  existence  in  beds  choked 
with  weeds,  and  baking  in  a  crust  of  arid  earth, 
with  the  luxuriant,  well-grown  plants  which 
careful  culture  yields.  In  the  one  case,  disap- 
pointment ;  in  the  other,  constant  increase  of 
beauty.  "  But  I  am  no  gardener,  and  Primrose 
employs  a  professional,"  is  the  reason  often  as- 
signed ;  the  important  fact  being  lost  sight  of, 
that  back  of  the  gardener  and  all  other  garden 
operations  lies  the  fundamental  principle  of 
floriculture—;  proper  preparation  of  soil.  The 
parable  of  the  sower  has  also  its  application  to 
the  garden. 

A  rich,  friable  loam  is  adapted  to  the  re- 
quirements of  the  majority  of  border-flowers. 
Where  the  natural  soil  is  stiff,  clayey,  or  sandy, 
it  is  useless  to  expect  satisfactory  results,  even 
with  the  most  liberal  manuring.  Clay  soils  can 
only  be  rendered  tractable  by  the  addition  of 
leaf-mold,  sandy  loam,  and  decomposed  ma- 


0n  ©utlfne  of  tfjc  g&artren.  47 

nure  in  sufficient  quantity  to  render  the  soil  free 
and  elastic.  Sandy  soils  should  be  treated  with 
plenty  of  strong  garden-loam,  leaf-mold,  and  an 
abundance  of  old  manure.  It  may  be  observed, 
in  this  connection,  that  a  leaf-mold  and  compost- 
heap  should  form  a  part  of  the  reserve  garden. 
When  leaf-mold  is  desired,  it  is  often  difficult 
and  expensive  to  procure.  The  rakings  of  old 
leaves  in  autumn,  and  the  leaves  used  for  winter 
protection,  left  in  a  heap  to  decompose,  will  usu- 
ally suffice  to  keep  up  a  sufficient  supply.  Prop- 
er drainage  secured,  the  flower-border  should  be 
composed  of  surface-soil  to  the  depth  of  at  least 
two  feet.  This  will  insure  the  roots  a  supply  of 
moisture  far  below  the  surface.  Treated  thus 
at  the  beginning,  the  foundation  will  be  perma- 
nent ;  and,  beyond  sometimes  forking  in  an  au- 
tumnal top-dressing,  we  have  done  with  the 
question  of  soil.  I  am  aware  that  it  is  often  the 
custom  in  England,  where  climate  and  skill  pro- 
duce the  highest  results,  to  retrench  and  replant 
the  flower-border  every  three  or  four  years. 
This  involves  much  labor,  and  disturbs  number- 
less plants  which  do  not  like  removal.  It  is  far 
easier  and  better  to  separately  lift  or  divide  such 
plants  as  may  have  exhausted  the  soil,  replant- 
ing them  in  fresh  earth. 

No  plan  of  gardening  involving  an  expensive 


48  Clje  kartell's 


annual  effort  can  be  satisfactory,  even  to  those 
of  abundant  means.  It  should  be  the  effort, 
therefore,  to  plant  subjects  that  will  be  perma- 
nent, and  increase  in  beauty  from  year  to  year. 
If  a  plant  proves  unsatisfactory  from  any  cause, 
cast  it  aside.  If  its  color  clashes  with  that  of 
its  immediate  neighbors,  shift  it  to  some  other 
position  where  it  will  not  offend.  It  is  almost 
impossible  to  plant  a  large  collection  without 
color  discords.  The  various  shades  of  red  in 
juxtaposition  are  generally  the  most  trying,  and, 
often,  effects  can  not  be  fully  measured  until 
flowering-time.  In  such  cases  it  is  best  to  im- 
mediately shift  one  or  the  other  offender.  If  left 
until  fall,  even  when  a  detailed  garden  memoran- 
dum is  kept,  the  cause  is  apt  to  be  mistaken  or 
forgotten,  to  intrude  itself  another  season. 

With  comparatively  few  exceptions,  trans- 
planting may  be  effected  even  during  the  hottest 
weather  by  soaking  the  soil,  lifting  the  plant 
with  a  ball,  and  replacing  in  soil  which  has  been 
thoroughly  watered.  In  dry  weather  the  soak- 
ing must  be  thorough  and  repeated,  so  that  the 
subject  may  be  lifted  with  a  good-sized  ball,  and 
little  or  no  root-disturbance.  This  operation  is 
best  performed  in  the  evening.  In  hot,  sun- 
shiny weather  the  plant  may  be  shaded  for  a 
few  days  until  re-established. 


Sin  ©utlfne  of  tt)e  (SartJen.  49 


Often  plants  crowd  each  other  ;  too  many 
species  of  similar  habit  occur  side  by  side  ;  hur- 
ried spring  planting  may  place  desirable  subjects 
amid  incongruous  surroundings,  and  the  sym- 
metry of  the  flower-border  become  disturbed. 
Its  outline,  shading,  and  harmony  of  color  are 
naturally  seen  to  the  greatest  advantage  at  the 
flowering  season,  and  it  is  then  that  transplant- 
ing may  be  most  intelligently  performed.  Cer- 
tain subjects,  like  lilies,  daffodils,  etc.,  must,  of 
course,  await  their  proper  season  for  removal ; 
and,  where  the  subjects  for  shifting  are  numer- 
ous, cool,  wet  weather  should  be  selected.  I 
would  not  by  any  means  appear  to  advocate 
summer  transplanting,  to  the  exclusion  of  spring 
and  fall ;  but  where  the  position  of  individual 
plants  is  immediately  offensive,  or  where  they 
are  unduly  crowding  each  other,  summer  trans- 
planting is  to  be  recommended. 

It  is  always  advisable  to  have  a  reserve 
flower-patch  to  draw  from,  where  subjects  may 
be  obtained  to  replace  those  that  may  fail  or 
prove  unsatisfactory,  for  the  purpose  of  ex- 
change, or  where  masses  of  particular  kinds  are 
liable  to  be  called  for,  Generally,  a  stock  of 
desirable  plants  may  be  had  by  annual  sowings 
and  division.  The  seeds  of  some  perennials 
germinate  very  slowly,  and  are  often  trying  to 


50  2"he  (Gartirn's  .Storn. 

raise.  Much  is  to  be  gained  with  the  majority 
by  sowing  as  soon  as  the  seeds  are  ripe,  and 
wintering  the  slow-germinating  kinds  in  a  cold 
frame,  pricking  off  when  large  enough,  and 
planting  out  subsequently  in  their  proper  places. 
Not  a  few  perennials  spare  us  this  trouble  by 
sowing  themselves ;  many  bloom  the  first  year 
where  sown  early ;  a  large  portion  germinate 
slowly.  In  all  cases,  fresh  seed  insures  the  best 
results.  Sow  in  light  soil  in  shallow  boxes,  cov- 
ering with  a  light  layer  of  moss  to  retain  moist- 
ure, and  wintering  in  the  cold  frame  such  spe- 
cies as  do  not  develop  sufficiently  to  plant  out  in 
autumn.  Perennial  seeds  one  should  not  de- 
spair of  until  well  on  to  the  second  year  after 
sowing.  Many  of  them  are  in  the  habit  of  lying 
dormant  for  a  year,  In  England  seed-pans  are 
usually  kept  dark,  being  moved  into  the  light  as 
soon  as  the  seeds  are  up.  Lichens,  which  clog 
the  surface  of  the  soil,  do  not  grow  in  the  dark. 
Annuals  germinate  readily,  and  cause  little 
trouble. 

Another  mode  of  propagation  is  by  cuttings. 
These,  taken  from  the  plants  just  when  growth 
begins,  or  after  blooming,  should  be  inserted  in 
boxes  or  pets  filled  with  a  mixture  of  leaf-mold 
and  sand,  keeping  them  in  a  shaded  frame  until 
rooted  ;  then  pot  singly  in  three-inch  pots,  plant- 


Bn  ©utlfne  of  tfte  eSartoen.  51 

ing  them  out  finally  the  following  spring  where 
desired. 

What  flowers  shall  we  plant,  and  how  shall 
they  be  planted  ?  This  will  depend  largely  on 
the  space  to  be  filled,  and  on  other  considera- 
tions. Many,  who  are  accustomed  to  be  absent 
during  the  summer,  will  plant  spring  bloomers 
almost  exclusively— a  mistake,  for  this  means 
bare  borders  during  midsummer.  Where  one 
has  a  rock-garden,  some  plants,  that  otherwise 
might  find  a  place  in  the  borders,  will  be  kept 
apart  in  this  more  proper  situation.  Where  there 
is  a  hardy  fernery,  ferns  will  naturally  be  ex- 
cluded. There  will  also  always  exist  a  diversity 
of  opinion  regarding  the  merits  of  particular 
plants.  Certain  perfumes  delightful  to  some  are 
disagreeable  to  others  ;  while,  so  long  as  people 
exist  who  can  endure  magenta  passively,  we  may 
never  hope  to  exile  such  nightmares  as  Achillea 
rosea  from  the  border,  or  some  of  the  shades  of 
the  Cineraria  from  the  greenhouse.  All  hardy 
plants,  desirable  and  beautiful  themselves,  which 
will  thrive  in  the  soil  and  position  chosen,  and 
which  are  not  so  small  as  to  be  lost  in  the  bor- 
der, may  be  used  appropriately  ;  these  will  be 
alluded  to  specifically,  later  on,  in  their  order  of 
flowering. 

Experience  will  teach  what  not  to  plant  bet- 


52  fffje  CSar&en's 


ter  than  volumes  of  instruction.  Usually,  sub- 
jects that  sucker  and  throw  out  strong,  creeping 
root-stalks  are  objectionable.  Do  not  introduce 
rows  in  the  borders  ;  plants  are  not  supposed  to 
be  on  military  review.  Neither  dot  the  ground 
at  equal  distances  with  the  same  plants  often 
repeated  ;  variety  is  the  spice  of  the  garden. 
Though  the  taller-growing  species,  as  a  rule, 
are  best  placed  in  the  background,  an  occasional 
colony  of  large  plants  should  be  placed  in  the 
center,  and  some  large  individual  specimens  re- 
lieve the  foreground.  Massing,  where  too  much 
space  is  not  called  for,  is  desirable,  especially 
with  plants  of  medium  size  ;  though  attention 
must  be  paid  to  selection,  or  large  bare  spaces 
after  blooming  will  obtrude.  Where  daffodils 
are  largely  grown,  summer  and  autumn  flower- 
ing subjects,  like  the  columbines  and  Japanese 
anemones,  should  be  placed  in  close  proximity, 
to  fill  the  void  left  when  the  bulbs  die  down  in 
summer  ;  or  light-rooting  flowers,  like  the  lovely 
Iceland  poppy  and  some  of  the  finer  small  an- 
nuals, may  be  employed  to  take  their  place. 

The  great  secret  of  successful  gardening  is 
continuity  of  bloom—  a  luxuriance  of  blossom 
from  early  spring  to  late  autumn  ;  so  that,  when 
one  species  has  flowered,  there  will  at  once  be 
something  else  to  continue  the  blosssoming 


&n  ©utlfne  of  tfje  ffifarfcen.  53 

period  without  leaving  unsightly  gaps  of  bare 
ground.  The  necessity  of  placing  plants  intelli- 
gently will  thus  be  readily  apparent — the  just 
apportioning  of  spring,  summer,  and  autumn 
flowers  with  these  several  ends  in  view.  Mod- 
erate shade  is  of  advantage  to  many  flowers,  but 
this  should  never  be  obtained  from  trees  planted 
in  the  border  itself. 

Plant  permanently,  mass  boldly.  Do  not 
confine  yourself  to  a  few  kinds  when  there  is 
such  a  wealth  to  choose  from — plants  for  sun- 
shine and  plants  for  shade,  plants  for  color  and 
plants  for  fragrance,  plants  for  spring  and  plants 
for  autumn,  plants  for  flower  and  plants  for  form. 
Aim  at  individuality,  to  produce  an  ideal  of  your 
own.  Many  half-hardy  plants  in  the  accepted 
sense  can  be  grown  by  simply  protecting  them 
with  leaves  over  winter.  Plant  for  permanency 
lilies,  irises,  roses,  delphiniums,  phloxes,  spiraeas, 
hemerocallis,  narcissi,  columbines,  day  lilies,  her- 
baceous paeonias,  bell-flowers,  anemones,  fraxi- 
nellas,  perennial  sunflowers,  the  great  and  less- 
er poppies,  centaureas — the  list  is  inexhaustible. 
Avoid  coarse,  weedy  subjects,  unless  in  special 
cases  where  habit  may  be  compensated  by  bloom 
or  special  adaptation  to  situation  ;  these  are  usu- 
ally best  placed  by  themselves  in  the  distance  or 
the  rear  garden.  Many  an  old-fashioned  coun- 


54  2Tt)e  (Sartren's 


try  garden  can  teach  us  much  on  the  subject 
of  selecting  proper  border  flowers.  The  flower- 
border  may  be  raised  very  slightly,  to  insure  per- 
fect drainage  and  to  emphasize  its  contour,  but 
never  be  so  elevated  as  to  cause  over-dryness  ; 
elevated  beds  and  borders  are  designed  for 
plants  which  do  not  require  much  moisture. 
The  skillful  planter  will  not  forget  to  place 
showy  subjects  with  reference  to  their  effect 
from  the  interior  of  the  house,  so  that  the  beau- 
ty of  the  garden  may  be  admired  from  within 
during  inclement  weather. 

A  garden  may  be  rendered  beautiful  from 
early  spring  until  late  autumn  with  perennial 
flowers  alone  ;  but  it  may  be  rendered  still  more 
attractive  by  the  judicious  use  of  many  of  the 
finer  annuals,  biennials,  and  foliage  plants  as 
well.  By  the  term  "judicious"  I  mean  not  only 
a  use  of  annuals  of  merit,  but  annuals  properly 
placed  ;  perennial  flower-borders  should  consist 
in  the  main  of  perennial  flowers.  To  cultivate 
hardy  flowers  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  an  Asa 
Gray,  though  a  knowledge  of  botany  must  always 
afford  an  ever-increasing  satisfaction  and  pleas- 
ure. A  love  for  flowers  one  must  have  ;  one 
can  not  be  a  Peter  Bell  in  floriculture. 

Finally,  the  garden  syllabus  may  also  be 
written  on  two  tables  of  stone  : 


&n  ©utlfne  of  tfje  (iSartJen.  55 

I.  Whatever  is  worth  growing  at  all  is  worth 
growing  well. 

II.  Study  soil  and  exposure,  and  cultivate  no 
more  space  than  can  be  maintained  in  perfect 
order. 

III.  Plant   thickly ;    it   is   easier   and   more 
profitable  to  raise  flowers  than  weeds. 

IV.  Avoid   stiffness    and   exact    balancing ; 
garden  vases  and  garden  flowers  need  not  neces- 
sarily be  used  in  pairs. 

V.  A  flower  is  essentially  feminine,  and  de- 
mands attention  as  the  price  of  its  smiles. 

VI.  Let   there   be   harmony  and  beauty  of 
color.     Magenta  in  any  form  is  a  discord  that 
should  never  jar. 

VII.  In  studying  color-effects,  do  not  over- 
look white  as  a  foil ;  white  is  the  lens  of  the 
garden's  eye. 

VIII.  Think  twice  and  then  still  think  be- 
fore   placing  a   tree,  shrub,  or   plant    in    posi- 
tion.    Think   thrice   before   removing  a   speci- 
men tree. 

IX.  Grow  an  abundance  of  flowers  for  cut- 
ting ;  the  bees  and  butterflies  are  not  entitled  to 
all  the  spoils. 

X.  Keep  on  good  terms  with  your  neighbor ; 
you  may  wish  a  large  garden-favor  of  him  some 
day. 


's  Story. 


XI.  Love   a  flower  in   advance,   and   plant 
something  every  year. 

XII.  Show  me  a  well-ordered  garden,  and  I 
will  show  you  a  genial  home. 


Spring  toilb  flowers. 


Shall  we  be  so  forward  to  pluck  the  fruits  of  Nature  and 
neglect  her  flowers?  These  are  surely  her  finest  influences. 
So  may  the  season  suggest  the  thoughts  it  is  fitted  to  suggest. 
.  .  .  Let  me  know  what  picture  Nature  is  painting,  what  po- 
etry she  is  writing,  what  ode  composing  now. — THOREAU. 


III. 


THE   SPRING  WILD   FLOWERS. 

HE  exhilarating  sensation  of  the  first 
warm  late  April  day  !  A  new  life  in 
the  sunshine,  a  sweeter  breath  in  the 
south  wind :  the  breath  of  green  fields  and  re- 
animated woodlands ;  the  fresh,  unctuous  smell 
of  the  soil !  To  it  every  living  thing  responds  — 
the  awaiting  birds,  the  dry  chrysalis,  the  impris- 
oned flowers.  How  merrily  bluebird  and  mead- 
ow-lark ring  out  their  welcome !  With  what  a 
rush  Hepatica,  bloodroot,  spring  beauty,  and 
dog-tooth  violet  burst  through  the  mold  !  How 
all  the  wild,  glad  host  of  pulsating  things  seems 
eager  to  roll  away  the  resurrection-stone  ! 

I  never  see  and  feel  the  start  of  vegetation 
without  recalling  Remy  Belleau's  sixteenth-cent- 
ury lyric  on  April,  which  still  exhales  the  very 
essence  of  spring — a  lyric  unsurpassed  by  any 
I  am  acquainted  with  on  a  similar  theme.  To 


60  2Tt)e  (Garden's 


April  the  French  poet  assigns  a  place  exalted 
above  all  the  other  months  :  "  Avril,  I'honneur 
et  des  bots  et  des  mots!"  Unsurpassed  in  the 
original,  the  apostrophe  is  admirably  rendered 
by  Andrew  Lang  : 

April,  pride  of  murmuring 

Winds  of  spring, 
That  beneath  the  winnowed  air 
Trap  with  subtle  nets  and  sweet 

Flora's  feet, 
Flora's  feet,  the  fleet  and  fair.  .  .  . 

Nothing  could  be  more  truly  descriptive  of  the 
mad  hurrying  into  life  of  the  spring  flora  than 
the  spirit  and  allegro  throughout  the  poem. 

I  think  the  first  of  inanimate  wild  life  to 
pierce  the  ground  is  the  well-known  member  of 
the  aroids,  the  skunk-cabbage  (Symplocarpus 
fcetidus).  A  rank,  foul,  noxious  weed,  "  a  noi- 
some hermit  of  the  marsh,"  it  is  usually  consid- 
ered —  surely  an  unjust  stricture.  It  has  a  clean, 
wholesome  smell,  a  pungent,  growing,  out-of- 
doors  smell,  with  no  taint  of  corruption.  Greuze 
would  have  admired  its  lovely  greens,  and,  I 
doubt  not,  a  poet  will  yet  be  born  to  praise  its 
rugged  precocity.  I  have  planted  it  in  the  rear 
garden,  on  the  edge  of  the  copse,  as  a  wild  foli- 
age-plant, just  to  watch  its  incurved  horn  and 
gigantic  leaves  expand.  So  long  as  we  grow 


£f)e  Sprfnjj  SUmtr  iflotoers.  61 

the  crown  imperial,  we  can  well  overlook  the 
odor  of  the  great  green  aroid  which  so  boldly 
ushers  in  the  spring. 

The  infinite  shades  of  green  which  Nature 
has  in  her  color-box  !  I  say  nothing  of  the  mar- 
velous greens  of  her  twilight  skies,  or  those  of 
her  streams  and  waters,  but  simply  the  greens 
of  vegetation.  There  is  another  autumn  of  color 
in  the  spring  foliage,  so  varied  are  the  shadings 
of  the  buds  and  young  leaves.  Indeed,  it  is 
often  difficult  to  tell  where  green  begins  or 
ceases,  so  interblended  it  is  with  reds  and  yel- 
lows. The  different  colors  of  the  soil,  too,  what 
variety  they  present !  there  is  almost  a  rainbow 
in  the  clays  alone !  I  do  not  remember  having 
noticed  magenta  in  either  foliage  or  soil.  When 
Nature  uses  it  in  a  flower,  she  is  rather  sparing, 
or  gives  it  a  proper  foil  of  green  to  tone  it  down ; 
its  wild,  barbaric  effect  she  leaves  to  frescoes, 
florist's  cinerarias,  and  Bahndur  rugs. 

Once  started,  the  wild  flowers  succeed  one 
another  with  astounding  rapidity.  The  arbutus 
appears  blushing  almost  beneath  the  snow,  and 
so  quickly  is  it  followed  by  the  many  other  early 
flowers  that  it  becomes  difficult  to  place  them  in 
their  proper  succession.  A  sheltered  situation 
where  the  sun  concentrates  its  warmth  often 
calls  out  a  species  before  its  regular  time,  inter- 


62  2Tl)e  (SJarOen's 


cepting  earlier  species  in  less  favored  localities. 
Many  of  the  flowers  that  we  shall  meet  in  the 
swamps  and  woods  will  be  found  worthy  of  a 
conspicuous  place  in  the  garden.  Few  realize 
the  richness  of  our  native  flora.  Comparatively 
few  are  familiar  with  its  infinite  grace  and  beauty 
in  its  chosen  haunts.  Fewer  still  appreciate  how 
many  of  our  wild  flowers  thrive  under  proper 
cultivation,  or  how  much  they  add  to  the  charm 
of  the  garden.  Nature  shows  us  the  effect  of 
liberal  planting  and  bold  massing.  The  wood- 
lands hold  no  bare  patches  ;  each  flower  is 
quickly  succeeded  by  another.  The  ground 
now  glowing  with  the  little  spring  beauty  (Clay- 
tonia  Virgmica)  will  soon  be  painted  with  vio- 
lets and  Trilliums  ;  and  where  the  Hepaticas 
run  riotously  over  the  hill-side,  ferns  and  flower- 
ing plants  innumerable  will  take  the  place  they 
have  vacated.  The  Hepatica  is  one  of  the  earli- 
est flowers  to  extend  an  invitation  to  the  woods. 
It  grows  on  sandy  hill  -sides,  frequents  open 
glades,  hides  in  shady  hollows,  and,  like  Mont- 
gomery's daisy,  "blossoms  everywhere."  In 
color  it  varies  from  a  lovely  blue  to  pure  white, 
shading  to  lavender  and  a  soft  flesh-tint.  The 
spring  beauty  is  scarcely  less  charming,  and  is 
even  more  prodigal  in  moist  places.  Not  sat- 
isfied with  one  color,  its  flower  -clusters  also 


CTfje  JSprfns  SWflti  JFlotoers.  63 


assume  several  hues — white,  with  shadings  of 
rose,  and  penciled  with  deeper-colored  veins. 
There  is  another  form  of  spring  beauty  (C. 
parvtflord),  from  Oregon,  equally  free  bloom- 
ing, which  flowers  later  and  spreads  freely  from 
seed.  Besides  these,  I  find  five  additional  forms 
mentioned  in  the  "  Botanical  Survey  of  the 
Fortieth  Parallel." 

Whoever  has  been  in  the  woods  in  early 
spring  has  met  the  bloodroot  (Sangumaria 
Canadensis),  with  its  white,  star-shaped  corolla, 
the  delicately  scented  flowers  preceding  the 
large,  kidney-shaped  leaves.  Its  only  fault  is  its 
ephemeral  nature  ;  you  scarcely  obtain  a  glimpse 
of  it  ere  it  is  gone.  It  belongs  to  the  poppy- 
worts,  nearly  all  of  which  are  familiar  with  the 
Horatian  refrain  : 

Vitae  summa  brevis  spem  nos  vetat  inchoare  longam. 

I  suppose  many  flowers,  like  many  people,  have 
their  faults,  if  such  they  may  be  called.  Even 
the  arbutus,  if  born  again,  I  think,  would  wish 
to  appear  with  fresher  leaves. 

When  violets  of  every  kind  have  jeweled 
the  fields  and  meadows,  and  crept  into  the 
swamps  and  woods,  there  comes  a  sudden  fall 
of  snow.  The  great  white  flakes  everywhere 
strew  the  ground,  clustering  round  the  beech- 


64  £t)e  (Sartien's  .Stori?. 

boles,  flecking  the  hill-sides,  dotting  the  slopes — 
the  chaste,  pure  triangles  of  the  white  wood-lily 
(Trillium  grandifloruni).  Individual  among 
flowers,  the  Trillium  is  scentless — lovely  enough 
without  perfume.  To  enjoy  its  full  beauty,  you 
should  come  suddenly  upon  it  in  its  wild-wood 
home,  or  naturalize  it  with  the  bloodroot  by  the 
hundreds,  under  trees  or  in  shady  spots  in  the 
garden.  It  will  hardly  bear  the  shortest  journey 
after  cutting.  If  you  would  have  it  in  the 
house,  you  should  grow  it  in  large  potfuls, 
treating  it  like  the  narcissus.  The  English  pro- 
nounce it  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  hardy 
plants,  and  I  exchange  it  every  year,  with 
friends  in  Cheshire  and  Kent,  for  Horsfieldi 
daffodils.  The  purple  variety  ( T.  erectum)  often 
keeps  it  company.  It  is  a  jaunty  flower  at 
home,  but  somehow  appears  out  of  place  under 
cultivation.  T.  erythrocarpum  is  a  very  pretty 
species,  fluttering  a  small  white  corolla  with  a 
lively  carmine  eye.  I  found  it  swarming  in  the 
Adirondacks  with  the  large  white  and  purple 
varieties. 

In  "  Les  Fleurs  de  Pleine  Terre,"  which  I 
opened  by  accident  on  page  1151,  it  is  amusing 
to  read,  under  "  Trillium  grandiflorum"  "  The 
Trilliums  are  curious  rather  than  pretty  plants, 
and  rather  delicate,  perhaps."  To  have  the 


£t)e  Sptfnjj  C^fltJ  JFlotoers.  65 

Trillium  thus  characterized  provokes  a  smile. 
A  strange  flower  it  certainly  is — its  leaves,  calyx, 
and  corolla  a  triangle.  In  the  same  volume  I 
find  the  bloodroot  described  as  "  curious  and 
pretty  " — a  distinction  with  a  difference.  The 
Trillium  may  be  raised  from  seed — a  much 
more  tedious  process  than  obtaining  plants  from 
the  woods.  It  likes  rich,  deep  leaf-soil  and 
shade,  requiring  at  least  two  years  to  become 
thoroughly  established.  Where  T.  grandiflo- 
rum  is  well  grown,  it  often  attains  a  height  of 
nearly  two  feet.  Not  the  least  charm  of  this 
variety  is  its  change  to  a  soft  rose-color — revers- 
ing the  order  of  numerous  flowers  when  they 
begin  to  fade.  Indeed,  variety  and  change  of 
color  in  individual  species  is  a  characteristic  of 
numerous  spring  flowers. 

If  the  majority  of  our  native  violets  have  little 
odor,  many  of  the  very  abundant  species  possess 
at  least  a  faint  scent,  just  enough  to  suggest  an 
odor.  The  large-leaved  Viola  cucullata,  and 
many  of  the  tiny-flowered  species,  belong  to  this 
class.  The  bird's-foot  violet  (  V.  pedatd)  is  less 
common  than  we  would  wish,  more  especially  its 
variety  bicolor,  both  species  and  variety  having 
a  rich,  pansy-like  fragrance,  and  velvety,  pansy- 
like  petals. 

I  do  not  think  Bryant  open  to  criticism  for 


66  STtje  (Kartell's  Storg. 

ascribing  fragrance  to  his  yellow  violet,  blos- 
soming 

Beside  the  snow-bank's  edges  cold. 

The  Violas  are  so  associated  with  odor  that  it 
is  difficult  to  think  of  any  as  entirely  scentless. 
From  the  hosts  of  blue,  purple,  lavender,  yellow, 
and  white  species  that  carpet  the  ground,  and 
which,  except  the  white  blanda,  are  usually  con- 
sidered odorless,  there  certainly  does  arise  a  per- 
ceptible fragrance,  perhaps  best  described  by 
Bryant  as  a  "faint  perfume."  Lorenzo  de' 
Medici,  a  distinguished  gardener  and  floricultur- 
ist himself,  tells  us  in  sonnet-form  how  the  vio- 
let came  blue.  Originally  white,  Venus,  seeking 
Adonis  in  the  woods  where  it  grew,  stepped 
upon  a  thorn,  which,  piercing  her  foot,  caused 
the  purple  drops  to  fall  upon  the  flowers— 

Tingeing  the  luster  of  their  native  hue. 

Shakespeare's  violet  was  V.  odor  at  a,  com- 
mon in  Europe  and  in  many  portions  of  Great 
Britain.  "  Viola  odorata  flowers  all  winter,  but 
chiefly  in  March ;  the  typical  color  is  a  deep 
purple-blue,"  Rev.  Wolley  Dod,  of  Cheshire, 
writes  me ;  "  it  is  not  unlike  indigo-dye,  but  in 
gardens  there  is  every  shade,  down  to  pure 
white,  the  latter  being,  I  think,  the  sweetest  of 
all."  The  passage  in  which  the  violet  figures 


2Tt)e  Sptfnfl  CRfflU  JFlotoers.  67 

most  conspicuously,  most  beautifully,  in  litera- 
ture, is  too  well  known  to  be  repeated.  We  can 
readily  comprehend  the  comparison  to  Cytherea's 
breath  ;  but  the  reference  to  color — if  reference 
to  color  was  really  intended — is  less  apparent  on 
close  analysis.  Why,  in  the  first  place,  should 
the  lids  of  the  goddess  be  singled  out  rather 
than  the  orbs  themselves,  which  Shakespeare 
might  have  stamped  indelibly  a  violet-blue  ?  Un- 
fortunately, we  have  no  data  to  fix  the  precise 
hue  of  Juno's  eyelids,  but  we  would  naturally 
presuppose  them  to  be  dark.  The  old  French 
abbe-philosopher,  Brantome,  who,  it  must  be 
conceded,  is  excellent  if  somewhat  plain-spoken 
authority  on  all  that  appertains  to  the  charms  of 
lovely  woman,  specifies,  in  the  "  Vies  des  Dames 
Galantes,"  at  the  conclusion  of  his  second  dis- 
course, "  De  la  Veue  en  Amour,"  that,  among 
the  thirty  essentials  which  go  to  compose  a  su- 
premely beautiful  woman,  there  must  of  neces- 
sity be  three  black  (trots  choses  noires) — the 
eyes,  the  eyebrows,  and  the  eyelids  : 

Trots  choses  blanches :    la   peau,    les  dents   et    les 
mains. 

Trots  noires  :  les  yeux,  les  sourcils  et  les  paupieres. 
Trot's  rouges  :  les  levres,  les  joues  et  les  ongles. 
Trot's  tongues :  le  corps,  les  cheveux  et  les  mains. 
Trois  courtes  :  les  dents,  les  oreilles  et  les  pieds 


68  £t)e  Barton's  Storn. 

Trots  larges :  le  sein,  le  front  et  1'entre-sourcil. 

Trois  estroites :  la  bouche,  la  ceinture  et  1'entree 
du  pied. 

Trois  grosses :  le  bras,  la  cuisse  et  le  gros  de  la 
jambe. 

Trois  deities :  les  doigts,  les  cheveux  et  les  levres. 

Trois  petttea :  les  tetins,  le  nez  et  la  teste. 

Sont  t rente  en  tout. 

Dark  eyelids— a  dark  purple,  rarely  the  typical 
violet  hue— are  a  well-known  mark  of  feminine 
beauty.  Cleopatra's  eyes  must  have  flashed 
over  them  ;  and  we  know  the  fair  Georgians  of 
the  East,  who  do  not  come  by  them  naturally, 
use  k'Jiol  to  produce  the  languorous  charm 
they  are  supposed  to  impart.  Still,  this  does 
not  satisfactorily  explain  the  Shakespearean 
analogy — 
Violets  dim,  but  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes. 

To  carry  out  the  comparison  of  the  poet,  who 
distinctly  qualifies  the  color  as  "dim,"  Bran- 
tome's  beauty-mark  will  scarcely  apply  in  its 
literal  sense.  Possible  allusion  to  fragrance  is 
out  of  the  question  ;  it  must,  then,  refer  to  some 
other  sense— either  to  that  of  sight  or  feeling— 
the  term  sweeter  being  employed  for  lovely,  or 
to  denote  softness  to  the  touch.  Let  us,  there- 
fore, look  deeper  into  the  eye  of  woman.  A  kiss 
upon  the  eyelids — and  for  this  we  do  not  require 


jfflotoers.  69 


Gallic  authority  —  is  pronounced  one  of  the  sweet- 
est things  of  life.  This  theory,  then,  may  fur- 
nish the  key  to  the  passage  ;  it  is  to  the  qualifi- 
cation "  sweeter,"  in  the  sense  of  softer,  not  to 
the  color-definition,  that  we  must  seek  for  its 
intended  significance.  On  the  other  hand,  if  im- 
petuous Jove  kissed  Juno,  as  there  is  every  rea- 
son to  suppose  he  did,  we  must  conclude  that  he 
preferred  roses  to  violets,  and  kissed  her  on  the 
mouth,  and  not  on  the  eyelids.  Clearly,  this  is  a 
subtle  ruse  of  Shakespeare,  all  the  more  abstruse 
from  its  lovely  imagery,  and  is  only  another  case 
of  "  The  Lady  or  the  Tiger." 

Passing  from  the  "  Winter's  Tale  "  to  the 
"  Country  Churchyard,"  the  verse  printed  in  two 
editions  of  Gray,  and  then  expunged  from  the 
"  Elegy,"  presents  itself  : 

There  scattered  oft,  the  earliest  of  the  year, 
By  hands  unseen,  are  showers  of  violets  found  ; 

The  redbreast  loves  to  build  and  warble  here, 
And  little  footsteps  lightly  print  the  ground. 

Why  Gray  should  have  canceled  this  exquisite 
stanza  is  inconceivable.  It  is  the  relief,  the  very 
flower  of  the  ode  —  the  one  expression  of  loving- 
kindness  and  human  sympathy  to  diffuse  warmth 
and  fragrance  over  the  tomb. 

Finally,  before  taking  leave  of  the  violet,  I 
wonder  if  a  resemblance  of  two  poems,  to  which 


70  JTtje  (Sartien's  .Storj. 

the  spring  flower's  fragrance  clings,  has  been 
noticed?  I  refer  to  Collins's  ode  "On  Fidele 
supposed  to  be  Dead,"  and  Oliver  Wendell 
Holmes's  verses  "  Under  the  Violets."  Both  are 
pervaded  by  a  pathos  equally  tender,  the  meter 
being  alike,  except  the  added  fifth  line  of  the 
latter.  Though  a  similarity  will  be  observed, 
consisting  rather  in  meter,  pathos,  and  sentiment 
than  in  any  direct  expression,  it  is  not  difficult  to 
pronounce  upon  the  comparative  merits  of  the 
two  poems.  Viewed  by  posterity,  assuredly 
Holmes's  will  be  regarded  as  the  richer,  the 
more  finished  ode : 

To  fair  Fidele's  grassy  tomb 
Soft  maids  and  village  hinds  shall  bring 

Each  opening  sweet  of  earliest  bloom, 
And  rifle  all  the  breathing  spring. 

The  redbreast  oft  at  evening  hours 

Shall  kindly  lend  his  little  aid, 
With  hoary  moss,  and  gathered  flowers, 

To  deck  the  ground  where  thou  art  laid. 
COLLINS. 

For  her  the  morning  choir  shall  sing 
Its  matins  from  the  branches  high, 

And  every  minstrel-voice  of  spring 
That  trills  beneath  the  April  sky, 
Shall  greet  her  with  its  earliest  cry. 


JFlotoers.  71 


At  last  the  rootlets  of  the  trees 
Shall  find  the  prison  where  she  lies, 

And  bear  the  buried  dust  they  seize 
In  leaves  and  blossoms  to  the  skies  ; 
So  may  the  soul  that  warmed  it  rise. 

HOLMES. 

While  the  violets  are  yet  in  the  hey-day  of 
their  beauty,  there  is  no  lack  of  other  vernal 
flowers.  The  adder's-tongue  (Erythronium 
Americanum),  almost  first  to  dart  its  sharp 
purple  spathe  through  the  ground,  appears  in 
legions.  The  warmth  has  brought  out  the 
brown  spots  upon  the  now  clouded  gray  leaves. 
Presently  will  appear  its  nodding,  tulip-scented 
yellow  blossom,  revolute  in  the  sunshine.  Sin- 
gularly, the  adder's-tongue  has  its  two  leaves  of 
equal  length,  but  one  almost  double  the  width  of 
the  other.  I  do  not  find  this  dog-tooth  violet  a 
satisfactory  subject  to  naturalize  ;  it  has  a  rag- 
ged look  out  of  its  native  quarters,  and  even  there 
it  is  not  always  as  free-flowering  as  we  would 
wish.  The  robust  variety,  E.  grandiflorum, 
and  the  large,  white  form,  E.  giganteum,  from 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  are  far  more  beautiful. 
A  variety  named  E.  Hendersonn,  with  lilac  flow- 
ers and  a  central  purple  blotch,  edged  with  yel- 
low, discovered  very  recently  in  Oregon,  is  said 
to  be  the  finest  of  the  genus, 


72  C!)e  (Sarfcen's 


Little  later  than  the  adder's-tongue  comes 
the  lung-wort  (Mertensia  Virgtnica),  pretty  in 
the  blue  and  lilac  shades  of  its  drooping  flowers, 
and  almost  equally  beautiful  in  the  rich,  dark 
purple  of  the  early  leaves.  The  large  blue  flag 
(Iris  verstcolor),  an  inhabitant  of  wet  places  in 
woods,  meadows,  and  along  streams,  is  a  hand- 
some subject  for  naturalizing  where  it  can  ob- 
tain the  necessary  moisture.  Soon  the  little 
Dutchman's  breeches  (Dicentra  cucularid)  will 
disclose  its  curious  spurred  flower,  and  the 
columbine  (Aquilegia  Canadensis)  plume  the 
rocks  and  enliven  the  dry  places  with  its  pendu- 
lous scarlet-yellow  blossoms.  The  wild  crane's- 
bill  (Geranium  maculatutri)  is  usually  found 
with  the  columbine,  both  being  fond  of  places 
where  the  Hepatica  has  preceded  them. 

Jack-in-the-pulpit  (Artscema  triphylluni)  I 
regard  as  the  coarsest  of  the  aroids,  not  fit  to 
associate  with  refined  flowers  ;  it  looks  more  like 
a  snake  than  a  flower.  The  name  —  Jack-in-the- 
pulpit  —  sounds  well,  and  doubtless  has  helped 
it  to  retain  popular  favor.  Female  botanizing 
classes  pounce  upon  it  as  they  would  upon  a 
pious  young  clergyman.  But  it  is  an  arrant  pre- 
tender, and  should  be  called  by  its  proper  name, 
"  Indian  turnip,"  which  befits  it  well.  Let  it 
pass  for  what  it  is  worth,  and  pose  not  as  a 


<Sj)rfnjj  OTO  iflotoers.  73 

flower  but  as  a  carminative — its  only  virtue. 
"  Parson-in-the-pulpit  "  they  call  the  wild  Arum 
in  Great  Britain.  At  Mentone,  on  the  Riviera, 
the  flowers  of  one  of  the  aroids  (Arum  arisa- 
rum}  are  termed  Capuccini,  in  allusion  to  the 
brown-cowled  brethren  of  a  neighboring  cloister. 

The  bell-wort  (Uvularia  grandtflora),  al- 
though far  from  being  a  monstrosity,  is  another 
plant  that  makes  the  most  of  its  name.  Un- 
attractive, it  is  not  hideous  ;  neither  is  it  brazen, 
like  the  Indian  turnip.  Instead  of  thrusting 
itself  forward  and  demanding  attention,  it  is 
rather  graceful,  hanging  its  head  as  if  conscious 
of  its  dingy  yellow.  Its  smaller  sister,  the  dark, 
sessile-leaved  bell-wort,  is  much  prettier.  On 
account  of  its  creeping,  deep-rooting  rhizome,  it 
should  be  avoided  in  the  rock-garden,  where  it 
soon  becomes  troublesome. 

In  woods  and  on  shaded  hill-sides  the  rue 
anemone  ( Thalictrum  anemonotdes)  is  conspic- 
uous— a  dainty  plant,  with  delicate  foliage,  and 
graceful  white  flowers  assuming  a  blush  tinge 
in  some  localities.  It  increases  under  culture, 
thriving  both  in  shade  and  sunshine.  A  double 
form,  which  is  in  cultivation,  is  said  to  be  even 
preferable  to  the  common  variety. 

Now  the  shad-blow  (Amelanchier  Canaden- 
sis)  has  lighted  its  chandeliers  and  silvered  the 
6 


74 


edges  of  the  woods.  It  has  seemingly  a  wild 
grace  of  its  own,  being  seldom  equally  branched 
on  all  sides,  but  leaning  its  feathery  sprays  far 
over  the  woodland's  edge.  This  is  the  case  only 
where  it  is  crowded  ;  for  isolated  trees,  in  nature 
or  under  cultivation,  do  not  possess  this  habit, 
one  of  its  charms  in  the  woods.  I  have  always 
envied  those  who  can  enjoy  the  white  alder,  or 
sweet  pepper-bush  (Clethra  alnifolia),  whose 
midsummer  fragrance  hangs  like  incense  over 
the  thickets  where  it  grows.  In  August  I  should 
be  willing  to  exchange  it  for  the  Amelanchter, 
only  to  regret  it  in  May.  The  shad-blow  has 
scarcely  vanished  ere  the  dogwood  (Cornus  flo- 
ridd)  succeeds  it  as  torch-bearer.  A  very  much 
larger  white  flower,  or,  strictly  speaking,  invo- 
lucre, it  is  scarcely  more  brilliant  from  a  dis- 
tance. It  is  far  more  distinct  on  close  approach, 
and  one  would  have  to  think  twice  to  decide  to 
which  the  preference  should  be  accorded.  I 
love  the  shad-blow,  because  it  is  first  to  appear  ; 
and  the  dogwood,  not  only  for  its  beautiful  in- 
florescence, but  for  its  brilliant  red  berries  and 
glorious  autumnal  hues. 

The  dogwood  is  still  in  majestic  bloom  when 
the  wild  thorns  add  their  tribute  to  the  flowering 
pageant.  Perhaps  the  thorn  seems  the  showiest 
of  the  three,  because  it  so  often  occurs  as  an 


.Sprfnjj  OPflfc  jFIotoers.  75 


isolated  specimen.  It  has  a  pleasant  way  of 
surprising  one,  peering  at  you  over  precipitous 
banks,  suddenly  springing  from  some  lonely  hol- 
low, or  startling  you  by  its  snowy  whiteness  on 
some  meadow  or  pasture.  Have  you  wondered 
at  the  symmetry  of  many  of  these  patriarchal 
pasture  thorns?  —  the  cattle  have  manipulated 
the  pruning-shears.  I  think  a  gnarled  old  thorn, 
standing  sentinel  over  a  hill-pasture,  the  most 
picturesque  of  trees.  For  a  century,  perhaps,  it 
has  buffeted  the  wintry  blasts,  and  escaped  the 
shafts  of  the  lightning,  still  to  simulate  perpet- 
ual youth  in  its  perpetual  bloom.  The  ground 
around  it  has  been  worn  and  trodden  by  count- 
less hoofs  ;  and  on  sweltering  midsummer  days 
the  cattle  ruminate,  and  lash  their  tails,  beneath 
its  woof  of  shade.  It  is  the  next  thing  to  the 
shaded  stream  with  white  water-lily  cups  to  keep 
it  cool. 

You  look  for  the  shad-blow  with  the  snowy 
drifts  of  the  Trillium  and  the  running  yellow 
flames  of  the  marsh-marigold  (Caltha  palus- 
tris},  that 

Shines  like  fire  in  swamps  and  hollows  gray. 

Hamerton  calls  the  leaves  of  the  water-ranun- 
culus "  the  most  beautiful  of  all  greens  in  the 
world."  Strange  that  he  should  have  excluded 


76  Ci)e  (Sartien's  Sbtorn. 

the  marsh-marigold,  than  whose  glossy  foliage 
nothing  could  be  a  lovelier,  livelier  green  !  A 
"  £av»  glabrous  green,  with  glazed  and  brilliant 
yellow  flowers,"  the  publication  that  reviled  the 
Trillium  describes  it  very  prettily  and  correctly. 
The  Caltha  is  common  to  France  also,  and  a 
Frenchman  can  always  paint  a  French  flower 
artistically,  whether  a  wiidling  or  a  duplicate 
new  rose.  There  exists  a  double  variety,  and 
also  a  white  Caltha,  a  Californian  species.  The 
water-ranunculus  (R.  aquatilis)  is  a  common 
American  plant.  It  grows  submerged,  and  floats 
a  shabby  little  white  flower  on  the  surface  of  the 
water.  Concerning  the  color  of  its  foliage,  which 
Hamerton  extols,  a  botanical  friend  suggests 
that  artists  are  apt  to  be  enthusiastic  about  tri- 
fling differences  which  ordinary  mortals  do  not 
notice.  Of  the  tenants  of  the  brooks  and  streams, 
the  greens  of  the  common  marsh  or  water  cress 
can  scarcely  be  exceeded  in  beauty  when  sway- 
ing with  every  motion  of  the  current.  Do  not 
imagine,  because  the  Caltha  grows  so  abundant- 
ly in  the  wet  places,  that  it  is  easily  cultivated, 
unless  you  possess  the  luxury  of  a  bog-garden 
or  a  running  stream  for  it  to  wade  in,  when  you 
may  naturalize  it  to  your  heart's  content.  One 
always  wishes  to  transplant  these  water-loving 
flowers,  they  look  so  cool  and  seem  to  grow  so 


STtje  Sbprfno  C&fflti  jflotocrs.  77 

easily.  But  they  are  born  thirsty,  and  soon  pine 
without  their  liquid  nourishment.  It  will  not 
suffice  to  give  them  a  sponge-bath  ;  they  de- 
mand the  bath-tub,  and  only  luxuriate  where 
their  roots  are  forever  drinking  the  moisture. 

If  you  have  a  sharp  eye  and  are  acquainted 
with  its  haunts,  you  will  see  the  large  leaves  of 
Orchis  spectabilts,  earliest  of  its  family,  pushing 
up  to  join  the  spring-tide  pageant.  The  dwarf 
cornel  has  begun  to  prepare  for  its  chase  with 
the  twin-flower  and  Vaccinium  over  the  pros- 
trate logs  ;  while  the  bladder-fern  and  polypody 
crowd  the  stumps  and  bowlders,  and  the  little 
Cyst  opt  er  is  is  fast  uncurling  its  interrogation- 
points. 

One  of  our  most  beautiful  wild  flowers  is  the 
little  fringed  Polygala  {Polygala  paucifolia),  its 
refined  rose-red  or  purple  flowers  resembling  a 
small  sweet-pea.  It  rises  from  long,  white  sub- 
terranean runners,  rambling  over  shady  hill-sides 
with  the  goldthread  and  star-flower,  and  occa- 
sionally the  fragile  little  oak- fern.  Is  there  any 
blossom  poised  quite  so  airily  above  its  whorl  of 
lanceolate  leaves  as  the  star-flower;  and  could 
there  be  anything  fresher  than  the  dainty,  shin- 
ing foliage  of  the  goldthread,  that  threads  its 
leagues  and  leagues  of  golden  runners  through 
the  cool,  shadowy  places  of  the  woods?  All 


7 8  ?T|)e  (Sartten's  Sbtorj. 

these,  with  the  dwarf  cornel  (Cornus  Canaden- 
sis),  itself  a  bold  rambler  and  always  fresh-look- 
ing, are  charming  when  well  established  in  the 
Alpine  garden. 

I  should  like  to  see  a  wild-woods  garden 
placed  in  almost  entire  shade,  and  free  from 
all  rude  draughts  of  air,  composed  exclusively 
of  some  of  our  native  trailers  and  flowers,  and 
a  few  of  the  miniature  ferns.  For  the  trailers, 
runners,  and  carpet  plants,  for  instance,  twin- 
flower,  partridge-vine,  goldthread,  dwarf  cornel, 
fringed  Polygala,  false  Solomon 's-seal,  prince's- 
pine,  ground-pine,  and  winter-green  ;  with  star- 
flowers,  Pyrolas,  bluets,  and  star-grass ;  and,  for 
the  small  ferns,  the  common  polypody,  the  oak 
and  beech-ferns,  the  smaller  Cystopteris,  some 
of  the  dwarf  spleenworts,  and  the  hart's-tongue. 


tDljen  Daffobils  begin  to  peer. 

In  the  flower-garden  especial  observance  ought  to  be  taken 
of  the  choicest  roots  of  the  Asian  Ranunculi^  Aulmoneys,  ten- 
der Narcissi,  and  divers  others  of  the  like  Tendernesse,  and 
strangers  to  such  Entertainments  as  our  Northern  Countries 
afford.— PHILOSOPHICAL  TRANSACTIONS  OF  THE  ROYAL  SO- 
CIETY, ARTICLE  LXXXIX. 

Devotion  to  Flora  as  a  queen  among  us  is  as  yet  a  living 
truth,  and  among  or  around  the  heart  of  all  true  gardeners 
there  is  woven  a  thread  of  twisted  gold.— F.  W.  BURBIDGE. 


IV. 


WHEN   DAFFODILS   BEGIN   TO   PEER. 


HE  white-throated  and  white-crowned 
sparrows  have  lingered  longer  about 
the  garden  and  the  copse  than  usual 
before  retiring  to  distant  coverts.  Thanks  to 
unremitting  warfare,  my  premises  are  compara- 
tively clear  of  the  English  sparrow,  so  it  is  pos- 
sible to  hear  the  song-birds.  Next  to  the  in- 
comparable music  of  the  hermit-thrush,  I  think 
the  major  and  minor  of  these  two  sparrows,  who 
are  almost  always  in  each  other's  company,  one 
of  the  most  pleasing  of  all  our  bird-voices.  They 
are  more  sociable  than  the  hermit-thrush,  who 
sings  his  hymn  only  in  the  most  secluded  wood- 
lands; the  latter  has  hurried  past  us  this  sea- 
son, not  making  his  customary  pause  on  his  re- 
turn trip.  The  blackbirds  have  suddenly  disap 
peared,  after  a  brief  dress-parade  on  the  lawn. 
Over  the  distant  lowlands  I  hear  the  vibrating 


82  ?Tt)c  (Sartorn's  <Stori». 

warble  of  the  meadow-lark ;  while  high  above 
the  pastures  float  the  mellow  strains  of  the 
bobolink.  The  wood-thrushes  are  early  and 
welcome  arrivals.  I  wish  they  might  remedy 
the  disagreeable  crack  in  their  notes,  which  they 
seem  to  have  caught  from  the  grackle,  the  ter- 
mination of  the  second  bar  frequently  sound- 
ing like  a  snapped  bowstring.  Otherwise  the 
notes  would  be  very  liquid,  and,  at  a  distance, 
might  almost  pass  for  those  of  the  hermit.  The 
Baltimore  orioles  have  brought  with  them  their 
orange- scarlet  plumage,  and  still  another  new 
note  which  they  will  change  from  time  to  time. 
Year  before  last  it  was  more  sostained,  and  quite 
as  plain  as  if  one  pronounced  it,  "  Pretty,  pretty 
bird ! " 

The  same  cat-bird — I  am  sure  it  is  the  self- 
same demon — has  taken  up  his  perch  in  the 
maple  close  to  my  sleeping-room,  precisely  as 
he  has  done  for  two  years  past.  Nothing  could 
be  more  delightful  than  his  opening  matin  song, 
begun  in  a  dulcet  undertone,  did  I  not  know 
from  experience  his  long-drawn  crescendo  and 
the  frenzy  of  the  finale — a  perfect  Hungarian 
"  Czardas  " !  Pelting  him  with  stones,  a  pile  of 
which  I  keep  within  reach,  stops  him,  as  it  does 
my  morning  nap.  But  he  returns  persistently  to 
his  chosen  tree.  I  shall  turn  the  garden-hose 


ZJaffofcfls  begfn  to  peer.  83 

upon  him  some  evening,  and  see  if  cold  water 
possesses  the  virtue  that  the  prohibitionists  would 
have  us  believe. 

Notwithstanding  the  caution  I  gave  to  spare 
the  shears,  the  gardener  ruined  the  beautiful 
Forsythias  on  the  slope.  If  one  needs  an  illus- 
tration of  the  cruelty  of  spring-pruning  certain 
shrubs  whose  habit  it  is  to  flower  on  the  old 
wood,  he  has  but  to  trim  a  Forsythia  into  a 
rigid  outline  and  compare  it  with  one  left  un- 
touched. All  the  airy  grace  of  the  golden  sprays 
is  fled.  Fortuneii  and  viridissima,  the  for- 
mer especially,  are  the  best  of  the  Forsythias, 
or  golden-bells ;  suspensa  looks  ragged,  even 
with  close  pruning. 

If  you  commence  early  to  plant  magnolias, 
you  may  possibly  succeed  in  obtaining  one  to 
solace  your  declining  years.  The  money  the 
nursery-men  must  make  layering,  budding,  and 
grafting  the  acres  of  things  they  do,  and  then 
levying  two  or  three  dollars  apiece  on  the  wares 
they  puff  up  in  their  trade-lists  !  All  they  do  is 
to  stick  their  things  into  the  soil,  and  they  take 
care  of  themselves.  They  must  make  thou- 
sands annually  on  magnolias  alone ;  for  there 
is  no  case  on  record  of  any  one  establishing  a 
magnolia  until  at  least  three  or  four  attempts. 
I  find  growers  invariably  recommend  transplant- 


84  C!)e  ©artcn's  Storn. 

ing  this  tree,  when  in  blossom,  the  last  thing  in 
spring — a  cunning  device  to  sign  its  death-war- 
rant, so  as  to  insure  another  sale  the  following 
year.  Magnolia  Halleana,  or  stellata,  is  beau- 
tiful on  the  lawns,  with  the  Forsythia  and  the 
pink  Chinese  double  flowering  plum  (Prunus 
triloba).  Every  little  while  one  feels  like  touch- 
ing his  hat  to  Japan,  it  has  supplied  us  with  so 
many  valuable  hardy  shrubs  and  plants.  Con- 
spicua  comes  next  to  Halleana,  a  much  larger 
plant  and  flower.  M.  Lennei  is  a  dark,  late- 
flowering  variety  which  should  not  be  over- 
looked. The  scarce  M.  purpurea,  while  not 
nearly  so  robust,  has  a  more  refined  and  dis- 
tinct flower  than  Lennei,  of  a  very  rich  lake- 
color  ;  the  petals  are  narrower  and  more  point- 
ed than  most  magnolias. 

In  well-sheltered  positions  M.  macrophylla 
will  withstand  even  the  severe  climate  of  western 
New  York,  by  protecting  it  for  the  first  few  years 
during  winter — a  fact  worth  remembering  with 
regard  to  many  deciduous  and  evergreen  trees 
which  are  usually  considered  not  perfectly  hardy. 
This  species  would  be  worth  growing  for  its 
magnificent  leaves ;  when  to  these  are  added  its 
gigantic  white  tulip-shaped  blooms,  it  is  incom- 
parably the  most  tropical-looking  of  all  our  trees. 
To  obtain  its  most  striking  effect  it  should  be 


Baffotofls  beflfn  to  peer.  85 

seen  in  a  clump,  the  immense  flowers  being  rela- 
tively few. 

Here  it  is  well  to  direct  attention  to  the  pre- 
vailing error  of  planting  permanent  subjects  too 
closely,  or  too  near  walks  and  roadways.  It 
should  never  be  forgotten,  when  planting,  that 
the  small  tree  must  grow,  and  eventually  require 
space  to  develop.  How  often  noble  specimens, 
just  when  they  are  attaining  their  full  beauty, 
must  be  removed,  from  this  point  having  been 
lost  sight  of  in  the  first  instance ! 

Unfortunately,  conspicua  and  Lennei  are 
both  somewhat  tender;  and  of  the  large- flow- 
ered species,  Soulangeana  is  on  this  account 
one  of  the  most  satisfactory  for  general  cultiva- 
tion. M.  Thomsontana,  an  American  hybrid, 
a  cross  between  the  native  glauca  and  tri- 
petala,  seems  to  have  become  lost  of  late  years. 
Difficult  to  propagate,,  no  doubt  the  nursery- 
men can  not  realize  a  sufficient  dividend  upon 
it,  and  so  have  discarded  it.  It  is  a  valuable 
half-evergreen  species,  retaining  much  of  the 
fragrance  of  its  American  parent. 

Soon  after  the  first  magnolias  the  Japanese 
quinces  appear,  the  most  brilliant  of  ornamental 
shrubs.  A  single  specimen  of  the  scarlet  varie- 
ty will  light  up  the  largest  lawn.  There  is  a 
softer  and  equally  beautiful  shade  in  the  varie- 


86  Oe  ©arten's  <Ston>. 

ties  umbellicata,  auranttaca,  and  others ;  and 
also  numerous  lovely  flesh-colored  kinds. 

The  double-flowering  white  Japanese  peaches 
have  appeared  with  Spirceas  Thunbergit  and 
prunifolia.  It  is  not  because  its  blossom  is 
whiter  than  the  Spiraas,  but  because  it  so  re- 
sembles the  great  flakes  of  the  last  flurry  of 
snow,  that  the  white  peach  seems  the  whitest 
of  all  flowering  shrubs.  The  variety  versicolor 
plena  surprises  one  by  its  strange  freak  of  pro- 
ducing variously  white,  red,  and  variegated  flow- 
ers on  the  tree  at  the  same  time.  It  is  nothing 
new  to  advise  planting  white-flowering  trees  and 
shrubs,  with  evergreens  for  a  background  ;  nev- 
ertheless, it  is  good  advice  always  worth  repeat- 
ing. 

The  rose  and  red  flowering  peaches  are  like- 
wise highly  ornamental,  and  all  the  double-flow- 
ering cherries,  notably  the  double  white,  may  be 
placed  in  the  same  class.  Most  of  the  flower- 
ing crabs  are  beautiful.  The  blossom  of  the 
fragrant  garland-flowering  crab  (Pyrus  malus 
coronaria  odorata)  is  not  nearly  as  big  as  its 
name  might  imply,  being  a  modest  blush-flower 
borne  in  clusters,  with  the  perfume  of  sweet  vio- 
lets. But  while  admiring  this  and  many  other 
ornamental  flowering  trees,  let  us  not  overlook 
the  glorious  inflorescence  of  the  apple  itself,  a 


Baffotrfls  ftejjfn  to  peer.          87 

flower  as  tender  in  coloring  and  delicate  in  fra- 
grance as  the  rarest  exotic.  "  A  rose  when  it 
blooms,  the  apple  is  a  rose  when  it  ripens,"  says 
John  Burroughs,  who  has  said  about  all  that  can 
be  said  on  the  apple  in  his  own  inimitable  way. 
What  a  gardener  he  would  have  made  had  he 
followed  Loudon  as  closely  as  he  has  Audu- 
bon  !  To  properly  enjoy  Burroughs,  he  should 
be  read  in  the  author's  pocket  edition,  pub- 
lished by  David  Douglas,  Edinburgh.  The 
burly,  brown-cloth  American  volumes  are  too 
coarse  a  casket  for  the  jewels  they  enshrine. 
The  only  possible  objection  to  his  locusts  and 
wild  honey  is  that  they  are  sometimes  too  highly 
flavored  with  thyme  from  Mount  Whitman. 

The  yellow-flowering  or  Missouri  currant  is 
in  bloom.  It  deserves  to  be  cultivated,  if  only 
for  its  odor.  A  shrub  will  scent  a  garden,  and 
a  bunch  of  it  a  hall ;  and  its  bouquet  is  as  spicy 
as  that  of  the  yellow  'St.  Peray  wine,  which  I 
fancy  it  resembles,  the  favorite  of  Dumas  pere. 
The  bees  crowd  around  its  yellow  blossoms,  and 
its  honey  should  be  worth  its  apothecary-weight 
in  gold. 

Herrick's  Julia  was  born  too  soon.  She 
missed  Horsfieldi  and  many  hundred  others 
among  the  beautiful  new  English  daffodils. 
But  how  much  time  she  would  have  required 


88  5T|)e  (Sfarfccn's  Sbtorj. 

to  select  a  corsage-bouquet  from  the  infinite 
number  of  nineteenth-century  varieties,  each 
one  more  bewitching  than  the  other !  I  find 
three  hundred  kinds  in  Barr's  catalogue  alone, 
with  scores  of  undiscovered  ones  running  wild 
through  the  Pyrenees,  and  who  knows  how  many 
more  new  hybrids  to  be  heard  from  ?  Parkinson 
and  Hale  would  have  been  beside  themselves  at 
the  multitudinous  forms  and  varieties.  The  daf- 
fodil is  a  flower  for  every  one,  and  no  spring 
garden  is  a  garden  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word 
without  the  grace  and  gayety  it  lends.  Orchids 
are  very  well,  yet  they  never  seem  to  me  to  be 
a  flower  to  excite  special  envy;  we  know  they 
are  beyond  the  reach  of  the  masses,  and  that 
only  a  millionaire  can  grow  them.  Not  so  with 
the  daffodil,  which  every  one  can  enjoy  in  mod- 
eration, though  a  fine  collection  may  be  made  a 
very  expensive  luxury  as  flowers  go.* 

Of  all  floral  catalogues,  a  daffodil  catalogue 
is  the  most  exquisitely  tantalizing.  The  further 
you  read,  the  deeper  the  gold ;  and  you  are 
even  met  with 

Apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver. 

*  The  term  daffodil  I  have  used  in  its  general  sense. 
Specifically  speaking,  in  many  cases  the  term  Narcissus 
would  naturally  be  employed. 


33affottfls  beflfn  to  peer.  89 


Daffodils  running  the  entire  gamut  from  yellow 
to  white.  Daffadillies  with  trumpets  flanged, 
expanded,  gashed,  lobed,  serrated,  and  recurved. 
Daffadowndillies  with  perianths  twisted,  dog- 
eared, stellated,  reflexed,  imbricated,  channeled, 
and  hooded.  Then  the  multitudinous  divisions 
and  classes.  Hoop-petticoat  daffodils,  single  and 
dwarf  trumpets,  bicolor  and  shortened  bicolor 
trumpets,  white  trumpeters,  coffee-cups,  tea- 
cups and  tea-saucers,  musk-scented  and  Eucha- 
ris  daffodils,  jonquil-scented  and  rush-leaved, 
goblet-shaped  daffodils,  polyanthus  or  tazetta, 
early  and  late  poet's  daffodils,  jonquils,  double 
daffodils,  and  how  many  more  of  the  gilded  host 

To  add  to  golden  numbers  golden  numbers  ! 

Lilies  are  tempting  enough  in  the  catalogues. 
But  the  lists  finally  come  to  an  end,  while  the 
varieties  of  the  daffodil  are  inexhaustible.  The 
names,  English  and  Latin,  are  so  tempting,  too, 
though  these  are  nothing  compared  to  the  de- 
scriptions. To  catch  the  daffodil-fever  severely 
means  either  to  break  the  tenth  commandment 
or  to  be  guilty  of  ruthless  extravagance.  You 
know  there  are  swarms  of  varieties  that  will 
not  succeed  ;  but  how  are  you  to  single  them 
out  without  trying  them  ?  How  artistically,  how 
artfully  devised  some  of  the  monographs  are! 
7 


90  Cfje  (Karfcen's  Sstorw. 

Sulphur  hoop-petticoat  daffodil  (Narcissus  cor- 
bularia  cttrtna),  for  instance — as  if  the  name 
were  not  enough  to  sell  it — bears  this  descrip- 
tion:  "  It  is  a  bold  and  shapely  flower  of  a  soft 
sulphur  tint,  '  the  color  having  a  luminous  qual- 
ity, the  flower  being  like  a  little  lamp  of  pale-yel- 
low light.'  "  Observe  that  two  modern  Parkin- 
sons are  called  upon  to  describe  it,  so  that,  if  one 
fails  to  hook  the  reader,  the  other  will  be  sure  to 
land  him. 

William  Baylor  Hartland,  of  Cork,  Ireland, 
should  be  regarded  as  Herrick's  and  Words- 
worth's successor.  His  illustrated  " '  Original ' 
Little  Book  of  Daffodils "  is  a  very  epit/talti- 
mium  of  the  flower  of  the  poets.  If  we  only 
had  his  climate  and  the  Gulf  Stream  to  help  us 
raise  his  Narcissi!  Like  most  flowers,  the  daf- 
fodil is  thankful  for  careful  culture.  It  dislikes 
manure,  preferring  good  loam  and  a  liberal 
sprinkling  of  sand.  Climate,  however,  is  every- 
thing with  it.  It  likes  to  usher  in  the  season 
gradually,  not  hurry  it  as  our  spring  wild  flow- 
ers do.  Mild  winters,  gradual  warmth,  and 
abundance  of  moisture  during  the  early  season 
suit  it  best.  For  many  kinds  our  springs  are  too 
sudden,  and  the  transition  from  frozen  ground  to 
almost  tropical  suns  is  too  rapid.  In  England, 
from  February,  when  daffodils  begin  to  flower, 


Saffotifls  begfn  to  peer.  91 

until  May,  the  climate  hesitates  between  winter 
and  spring,  and  this  is  what  daffodils  seem  to 
like.  Nevertheless,  even  there  some  of  the  large 
trumpets  go  off  with  a  kind  of  blight  in  masses 
after  bad  seasons.  The  flowering  of  the  follow- 
ing year  so  depends  upon  the  full  development 
of  the  leaves  that,  if  the  weather  suddenly  be- 
comes blazing  and  burns  up  the  foliage,  degen- 
eracy is  sure  to  result. 

To  the  labors  of  the  late  Edward  Leeds  and 
William  Backhouse  we  are  indebted  for  many 
of  the  finest  hybrid  forms.  Leeds  was  the  prince 
of  hybridizers,  and  was  followed  by  Backhouse, 
who  raised  empress  and  emperor.  Many  of  the 
hybrid  incomparabilis,  however,  are  so  similar 
in  form  and  coloring  as  to  be  perplexing  and  to 
uselessly  extend  the  list  of  varieties.  Of  all  these 
hybrids  the  Nelsoni  are  the  finest  and  most  dis- 
tinct, with  broad,  snow-white  perianths,  and  yel- 
low cups  usually  suffused  with  orange  on  first 
opening.  I  was  about  to  pass  by  the  Barri  va- 
rieties. But  I  find  B.  conspicuus,  which  has 
just  opened,  is  almost  another  bicolor  poeticus, 
also  somewhat  resembling  one  of  the  finest 
Leedsi  forms,  aureo  tinctus. 

Since  writing  the  above,  I  find  the  reverse 
opinion  maintained  by  Mr.  Burbidge,  one  of  the 
best  authorities  on  Narcissi.  "  As  a  grower  of 


92  Cf)e  Garten's  Storn. 

nearly  six  hundred  forms  in  a  public  garden,"  he 
says,  "  I  know  something  of  the  variability  of 
daffodils,  and  also  of  the  taste  of  those  who  see 
them.  Often  and  again  will  one  visitor  condemn 
a  particular  form  which  the  very  next  will  stop 
to  admire.  Some  will  even  tell  you  that  there  is 
none  or  but  little  difference  between  John  Hors- 
field  and  empress ;  whereas  the  differences  are 
very  marked  in  size,  height,  color  of  trumpet  and 
of  foliage,  and  in  the  date  of  blossoming.  Taste 
is  a  shifting  index,  and  there  is  room  for  all  the 
varieties  we  now  possess  and  more."  Mr.  Bur- 
bidge  also  imparts  the  information  that  those 
Narcissi possessing  thick,  fleshy,  prong-like  roots 
will  grow  anywhere,  even  in  manured  soils ;  but 
those  having  thin,  short  bunches  of  fine,  wiry 
fibers  will  not  do  so,  and  must  be  grown  in  sand 
or  gravel  and  pure  fresh  meadow-loam  only. 

Hybrids  in  the  genus  Narcissus  are  very 
readily  made,  and  undoubtedly  any  species  of 
the  genus,  under  favorable  conditions,  will  form 
a  hybrid  with  any  other  species  of  it ;  and  sev- 
eral of  these  kinds  which  are  considered  by  bot- 
anists as  species,  seem  to  be  hybrids;  that  is. 
they  can  be  imitated  by  crossing  two  other  spe- 
cies of  the  genus.  The  best-known  instance  of 
this  is  the  so-called  species  Narcissus  incom- 
parabilis.  A  cross  between  N.  pseudo-narcis- 


JDaffoUHs  tocflfn  to  peer.  93 

sus  and  N.  poettcus  produces  in  some  instances 
a  daffodil  which  can  not  be  distinguished  from 
this ;  but  the  same  cross  may  also  produce  re- 
sults varying  in  the  degree  of  each  parent  they 
contain,  varying  in  the  color,  size  of  trumpet, 
and  other  particulars.  These  varieties  are  found 
wild  on  European  mountains  at  elevations  where 
N.  poeticus  and  N.  pseudo-narcissus  flower  si- 
multaneously with  the  melting  of  the  snow.  It 
is  this  cross,  made  in  gardens,  that  has  produced 
all  the  Leeds  hybrids.  As  for  increase,  some  of 
the  incomparabilis  sorts  multiply  rapidly.  Gen- 
erally, orange  Phoenix  increases  rapidly,  but  sul- 
phur Phoenix  never  increases  at  all.  The  trum- 
pets increase  very  irregularly ;  with  me,  obvalla- 
rts  and  the  common  spurnts  are  perhaps  the 
best  growers  of  this  section. 

Among  the  bicolor  trumpeters  Horsfieldi 
and  empress  are  incomparably  king  and  queen. 
I  confess  I  can  perceive  little  difference  between 
them  aside  from  the  foliage,  except  that  the  lat- 
ter is  a  few  days  later  to  flower,  and  its  trumpet 
stands  out  less  boldly.  Each  exhales  a  rich 
magnolia-like  odor ;  each  flutters  its  pure  white 
perianth  and  great  golden  corona  over  the  luxu- 
riant green  foliage  like  some  gorgeous  butterfly, 
rather  than  a  perfumed  flower.  Empress  in- 
creases far  more  slowly  than  Horsfieldi.  Its 


94  CD*  CSarUen's  <Storr>. 

favorites  claim  for  the  former  that  it  is  better 
"  set  up,"  the  perianth  having  more  substance 
and  the  flower  lasting  longer. 

The  marked  difference  of  the  flowering  period 
of  these  two  and  many  other  sorts  is  hardly  ap- 
parent with  us.  Hot  weather  follows  our  cold 
weather  so  rapidly,  that  we  almost  lose  sight 
of  this  distinction,  and  a  great  majority  of  the 
daffodils  appear  in  blossom  at  nearly  the  same 
time.  Emperor  is  certainly  a  grand  variety,  but 
infinitely  larger  in  the  English  illustrations  than 
in  the  American  soil.  Sir  Watkin  is  scarcely  as 
big  as  his  name  or  his  price  would  lead  one  to 
suppose.  Nevertheless,  he  is  assuredly  the  largest 
of  the  flat  chalice-flowers  or  tea-cup  section,  and 
keeps  on  increasing  from  year  to  year.  We  must 
not  expect  to  raise  daffodils  two  to  three  feet 
high,  as  they  can  and  do  in  England  and  Ire- 
land, or  grow  them  with  trumpets  large  enough 
to  serve  the  angel  Gabriel. 

Maximus  (Male's  vase  of  beaten  gold)  I 
have  been  unable  to  manage.  Neither  can  I 
grow  the  double  poeticus  successfully,  after  re- 
peated trials  with  bulbs  sent  from  England  and 
Holland  and  procured  here.  It  throws  up  strong 
flower-stalks,  but  they  invariably  come  blind.  I 
shall  banish  it  to  some  neglected  corner,  where 
it  "will  probably  take  better  care  of  itself.  Ard- 


JDaffoTjfls  beflfn  to  peer.  95 

Righ,  nobilis,  princeps,  and  a  form  of  single 
Telamomus  are  all  distinct  and  desirable  forms. 

In  a  great  vaseful  of  daffodils  before  me, 
cernuus,  the  drooping  white  Narcissus,  is  con- 
spicuous, nodding  lithely  from  its  fluted  stalk. 
Its  sulphur  perianth  changing  to  white,  and  pale 
primrose  tube,  are  heightened  in  their  refined 
effect  by  its  pendulous  habit.  It  is  a  Spanish 
flower,  and,  as  it  can  not  wear  a  mantilla,  it  co- 
quettishly  hangs  its  lovely  head.  Smalfer,  but 
also  beautiful,  is  Circe,  one  of  the  Leeds  forms 
of  the  tea-cup  section,  with  white  perianth  seg- 
ments, and  a  cup  changing  from  canary  to  white. 
The  white  daffodils  generally  possess  a  superior 
air  of  good  breeding ;  they  always  seem  dressed 
for  the  drawing-room.  The  yellow  ones,  even 
where  they  are  superlatively  handsome,  look  as 
if  they  preferred  a  romp  or  a  game  of  tennis. 

The  Pyrenean  palltdus  pracox  is  invariably 
the  first  daffodil  in  the  garden,  closely  succeeded 
by  the  distinct  obvallaris  or  Tenby ;  the  pale 
straw-color  and  cernuous  habit  of  the  one  con- 
trasting strongly  with  the  vivid  gold  and  large, 
wide-mouthed  crowrn  of  the  other.  I  have  yet 
to  see  the  daffodil  which  can  compare  with  the 
intensity  of  its  gold.  "The  causes  of  the  singu- 
lar and  almost  blinding  intensity  of  the  color," 
Hamerton  explains  from  a  painter's  standpoint, 


g6  Ci)e  CJarten's  Storj. 

"  are  a  gradation  from  semi-transparent  outward 
petals,  which  are  positively  greenish  in  them- 
selves, and  still  more  by  transparence  owing  to 
green  leaves  around,  to  the  depth  of  yellow  in 
the  womb  of  the  flowers,  where  green  influences 
are  excluded,  but  yellow  ones  multiplied  by  the 
number  of  the  petals.  So  in  the  heart  the  color 
is  an  intense  orange  cadmium,  not  dark,  but 
most  intense— a  color  that  we  remember  all  the 
year  rbund."  Hamerton  says  this  in  reference 
to  Wordsworth's  dance  of  the  daffodils,  and  thus 
had  pseudo-narcissus,  or  the  common  Lent  lily, 
in  mind,  which  has  a  pale  perianth  and  rich  yel- 
low trumpet,  and  which  is  extremely  difficult  to 
cultivate  in  its  native  country. 

Cynosure,  another  of  the  Leedsii  hybrids,  and 
Mary  Anderson,  single  of  the  familiar  orange 
Phoenix,  are  both  strikingly  beautiful.  The  for- 
mer has  a  large  primrose  perianth  changing  to 
white,  and  an  orange -scarlet  cup ;  the  latter, 
a  silver  perianth  and  a  cup  of  lively  orange- 
scarlet. 

What  with  most  flowers  deteriorates  from 
their  beauty  only  increases  the  attractiveness  of 
many  of  the  daffodils,  the  fading  perianth  often 
adding  a  chastened  beauty  to  the  passing  flower. 
Would  that  our  pretty  wives  and  sweethearts 
could  all  grow  old  so  charmingly,  or  that  woman 


(UNIVERSITY 
V  04; 
Baffotjfls  bcfifn  to  pter. 


might  learn  from  the  daffodil  the  art  of  always 
looking  lovely  things  ! 

The  big  trumpeters  and  chalice-flowers  are 
not  yet  over  before  the  poeticus  and  polyanthus 
groups  and  the  jonquils  appear.  How  cool  the 
snow-white  corolla  of  single  poeticus,  and  how 
warm  the  rim  of  its  dainty  cup  !  And  who  that 
has  ever  scented  it  can  forget  its  delicious  aro- 
ma ?  The  varieties  of  poeticus  are  many  ;  the 
garden  varieties,  recurvus,  patellaris,  and  or- 
natus,  being  finer  than  those  collected  wild.  All 
of  the  polyanthus,  or  tazettas,  are  likewise  de- 
liciously  odorous.  The  latter  form  pushes  up  so 
strongly  in  the  fall,  however,  that  it  is  apt  to  be 
injured  by  frost,  and  therefore  the  bulbs  should 
be  lifted  after  flowering  and  stored  until  late 
autumn.  The  big  and  little  jonquils  —  and  even 
here  the  variety  is  great  —  concentrate  more  odor 
in  their  little  cups  than  any  other  form  of  narcis- 
sus. Of  the  double  daffodils,  poeticus  plenus  is 
too  well  known  to  be  specified.  With  me,  as 
has  been  previously  observed,  most  of  the  buds 
come  blind,  the  flowers  forming  inside  the 
spathe,  which  becomes  hermetically  sealed,  and 
soon  dries  up  and  dies.  In  England,  where  this 
species  flowered  very  poorly  the  past  season,  a 
friend  writes  me  that  the  same  conditions  pre- 
vailed, failure  being  attributed  to  the  drought 


98  £t)e  ©farUen's  Story. 

and  cold  winds  of  February  and  March,  and 
something  "  going  wrong  "  with  it  in  May.  The 
common  double  yellow  is  coarse  compared  with 
either  orange  or  sulphur  Phoenix.  I  can  grow 
neither  of  these  successfully.  The  latter  runs 
out  after  the  first  year;  the  former  gradually 
turns  green— jealous,  no  doubt,  of  its  thriving 
sisters  in  my  neighbor's  garden. 

The  hoop-petticoat  narcissus  of  southern 
Europe  I  have  yet  to  try  out  of  doors,  well  pro- 
tected in  winter.  It  is  of  all  the  Narcissi  the 
most  individual,  resembling  an  evening  primrose 
enlarged  and  much  lengthened. 

The  depth  at  which  daffodils  and  lilies  should 
be  planted  is  a  disputed  question.  In  light  soils 
it  is  well  to  err  in  planting  too  deep  rather  than 
too  shallow;  in  stiff  soils  they  should  not  be 
planted  at  all.  Very  many  of  the  daffodils  re- 
quire to  be  placed  in  new  soil  every  year  or  t\vo ; 
weak  foliage  and  decreasing  flowers  indicate  that 
they  require  a  change.  Transplanting,  in  either 
case,  should  be  effected  so  soon  as  the  leaves 
and  stalks  have  died  down,  during  the  short 
space  the  bulbs  are  at  rest.  To  secure  the  finest 
flowers,  they  should  be  cut  in  the  full-bud  stage, 
and  allowed  to  expand  in  water  within  doors. 

In  England  daffodils  are  taken  up  in  July 
every  year.  James  Walker,  the  largest  grower 


Baffofcfls  begin  to  peer.  99 


near  London,  plants  the  bulbs  in  land  that  was 
manured  for  peas  or  early  potatoes  ;  a  similar 
plan  being  adopted  by  the  Dutch  growers  in 
their  bulb-culture.  Sea-sand  is  very  genial  to 
daffodils  ;  the  Scilly  Islands  soil  consists  of  but 
little  else.  Constant  replanting  in  deep,  pure 
soil  is  the  plan  in  England  now,  although  five 
years  ago  growers  were  all  manunng  the  soil  for 
them.  In  Holland,  all  bulbs  are  lifted  once  a 
year.  Fine  crocuses,  hyacinths,  and  tulips  do 
not  grow  themselves.  The  soil  in  Holland  is 
dark  sea-sand  or  alluvium.  Cow-manure  is 
largely  used  for  ordinary  farm-crops,  and  after 
these  have  sweetened  the  soil  it  is  dug  over,  two 
to  four  feet  deep,  and  the  bulbs  are  plant- 
ed. Deep  culture  prevents  their  suffering  from 
drought,  and  gives  a  clean,  round  bulb.  To  the 
Dutch  should  be  awarded  the  prize  for  perfect- 
ing the  bunch-flowering  section,  as  to  the  Eng- 
lish belongs  the  olive-crown  for  developing  the 
grand  trumpeters  and  the  incomparabilis  sec- 
tion. 

For  house-culture  some  of  the  tazettas  are 
very  effective,  grown  in  the  Chinese  fashion,  in 
water.  Indeed,  many  of  the  Narcissi,  which 
force  readily,  may  be  grown  in  this  manner.  In 
China  A',  tazetta  is  a  favorite  flower.  The  cus- 
tom there  is  to  place  the  bulbs  in  bowls  of  water 


ioo 


with  pebbles,  the  latter  being  employed  for  the 
roots  to  adhere  to.  But  to  produce  Chinese 
effects  we  must  have  the  Chinese  narcissus,  a 
splendid  species,  with  immense,  vigorous  bulbs. 
The  bulbs  should  be  started  in  their  receptacle 
with  water  about  five  weeks  before  they  are 
wanted  to  flower,  and  placed  in  the  dark  until 
root-growth  is  made.  They  may  then  be  moved 
to  a  sunny  window,  requiring  no  further  care 
beyond  keeping  up  the  supply  of  water.  They 
may  even  be  grown  in  full  light  from  the  start. 
The  Chinese  tazetta,  thus  treated,  throws  up 
huge  leaves,  and  stiff  flower-stems  two  feet  or 
more  in  height.  There  are  two  varieties,  with 
single  and  double  flowers,  somewhat  resembling 
in  individual  flowers  Grand  Primo  and  the  double 
Roman  tazetta,  though  of  less  substance  and 
less  highly  perfumed. 

Many  of  the  lovely  English  hybrids  we  can 
not  grow  with  success,  owing  to  our  rigorous 
climate.  They  are  inversely  like  some  of  our 
wild  flowers  in  England,  which  miss  the  frost 
and  long  season  of  rest,  as  some  of  the  daffodils 
with  us  lack  the  genial  climate  they  are  accus- 
tomed to.  Still,  if  many  varieties  refuse  to  be- 
come acclimated,  there  are  very  many  others 
that  are  readily  grown.  Let  us,  then,  follow  the 
admirable  precept  of  Delille  : 


ZDaffotJfls  bcflln  to  peer.         101 


Ce  que  votre  terrain  adopte  avec  plaisir, 
Sachez  le  reconnoitre,  osez-vous  en  saisir. 

I  have  been  enjoying  De"lille  in  the  old  edition 
of  eighteen  volumes,  copiously  illustrated  with 
quaint  woodcuts.  I  found  it  in  an  old  book- 
stall, and  obtained  it  for  a  song.  No  wonder 
the  late  A.  J.  Downing  was  so  fond  of  "  Les 
Jardins,"  a  French  Georgic  with  nineteenth-cent- 
ury improvements  !  Sir  Theodore  Martin  ought 
to  do  with  this  and  "  The  Man  of  the  Fields  " 
what  he  has  done  with  Horace  and  Heine  ;  they 
are  books  that  every  gardener  and  lover  of  nature 
should  be  able  to  enjoy. 

So  many  desirable  forms  of  Narcissi  may  be 
had  so  cheaply,  that  almost  any  one  can  afford 
to  grow  some  of  the  capricious  varieties  as  bien- 
nials. With  proper  selection  and  intelligent  cul- 
tivation, we  may  have  in  the  daffodil  a  treasure- 
house  of  beauty,  and  .  with  this  flower  alone 
render  any  garden  a  field  of  the  cloth  of  gold. 


Pleasures  which  nowhere  else  were  to  be  found, 
And  all  Elysium  in  a  plot  of  ground. 

DRYDEN. 

Imitez  ce  grand  art,  et  des  plants  delicats 
Nuanctz  le  passage  a  de  nouveaux  climats. 
Observez  leurs  couleurs,  leurs  formes,  leurs  penchans, 
Incurs  amours,  leurs  hymens. 

L'HOMME  DES  CHAMPS 


V. 
THE    ROCK-GARDEN. 

HEARD  the  tremolo  of  the  toads  for 
the  first  time,  April  2oth— later  than 
usual.  They  are  supposed  to  be 
silenced  thrice  by  the  cold — a  rule  I  have  gen- 
erally found  to  be  true.  Though  limited  in  com- 
pass, the  toad  possesses  a  musical  voice,  and 
only  sounds  it  in  warm  weather.  The  orches- 
tration of  the  small  frogs,  where  each  one  tries 
to  puff  himself  up  as  big  as  an  ox,  is  emphat- 
ically a  vernal  tone,  but  it  can  not  be  termed 
musical.  Their  comical  croakings  always  re- 
mind me  of  the  peculiar  noise  made  by  boat- 
builders  during  the  operation  of  calking.  The 
huge,  green  bull-frog  of  the  swamps,  who  is  not 
heard  until  much  later  than  his  smaller  brethren, 
has  the  merit  of  a  powerful  organ  not  entirely 
immelodious.  In  the  distance,  on  hot  summer 
evenings,  his  grand  bassoon  blends  well  with  the 


106  5Ti)e  ©artoen's  Sbtorp. 

lighter  and  varied  instrumentation  of  the  lesser 
reptilia.  His  nocturne  brings  the  plash  of  water 
and  the  scent  of  water-lilies  nearer  to  me.  It  is 
a  fluviatile  expression,  the  fitting  utterance  of 
ponds  and  swamps.  The  cicada  emphasizes  no 
more  tensely  the  heat  of  the  midsummer  noon, 
than  the  great  batrachian  the  serenity  of  the 
summer  night.  His  voice  fits  into  the  landscape 
like  an  audible  shade — a  sonorous  emanation  of 
coolness  and  departed  day. 

The  trill  of  the  toad  is  the  prelude  to  spring, 
as  the  cricket's  croon  is  the  farewell  to  summer. 
How  drowsily  the  chorus  floats  up  from  the  low- 
lands—a summons  to  the  early  bees  and  flies  to 
seek  the  precocious  flowers !  The  blue  scillas, 
the  hepaticas,  and  the  cowslips  are  swarming 
with  the  smaller  bees  and  muscce.  Where  do 
they  come  from  in  such  swarms ;  and  where  do 
they  all  house  themselves  when  the  inevitable 
change  of  temperature  puts  a  stop  to  cross-fer- 
tilization ?  A  few  warm  days  have  done  won- 
ders toward  starting  delayed  vegetation,  each  of 
the  spring  flowers  apparently  trying  to  outstrip 
the  other.  The  pushing  and  striving  for  warmth 
and  sunlight  always  seem  to  me  among  the 
most  marvelous  things  of  nature — the  embryo 
seed,  the  rising  stalk,  the  unfolding  corolla,  the 
perfect  flower ! 


107 


Sctlla  Siberica  is  perhaps  the  best  of  its 
class,  although  the  comparatively  new  Chtono- 
doxa  Lucilia  is  almost  equally  desirable  for  its 
lovely  shade  of  blue.  Of  the  other  squills,  the 
colors  of  5.  bifolia  vary  much,  some  being  far 
better  than  others  ;  this  species  also  contains  a 
white  variety.  S.  Italica  and  S.  amcena  are 
worthless.  The  later-flowering  Spanish  squills 
are  large  and  coarse,  but  showy  in  shrubberies. 
These  are  of  three  colors  —  blue,  white,  and 
pink  —  sold  under  three  names  —  campanulata, 
patula,  and  nutans.  The  difference  in  name 
does  not  always  insure  difference  in  flower.  The 
best  of  all,  certainly  as  regards  color,  is  5.  Sibe- 
rica. From  the  chinks  of  the  rocks  the  hepati- 
cas  glow  with  all  shades  of  blue,  purple,  and 
rose,  until  they  stop  at  nearly  a  pure  white.  The 
hepatica  comes  in  the  category  of  those  flowers 
which  the  gardener  neatly  terms  "very  thank- 
ful." If  you  can  not  procure  it  readily  from  the 
woods,  you  should  raise  it  from  seed  taken  pro- 
miscuously from  the  different  kinds,  to  procure 
new  colors. 

It  is  not  strange  that  the  British  hold  the 
primrose  in  such  estimation  that  they  have  con- 
secrated to  it  a  "  Primrose-Day"  —  April  ipth  — 
the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  who  wore  a  bunch  of  primroses  in  his  but- 


io8  2Ti)e  ©fartoen's 


ton-hole  whenever  they  were  procurable.  Hardy 
and  floriferous,  it  is  the  richest  of  early  spring 
flowers  :  from  the  palette  of  tints  of  the  polyan- 
thus, through  the  varied  hues  of  the  cowslip  and 
common  primrose  to  the  "  edged  "  and  "  pow- 
dery" Auriculas,  the  large,  purple  clusters  of 
the  Siberian  cortusoides,  and  the  fiery,  opening 
eye  of  the  Himalayan  P.  rosea.  The  Himalayan 
P.  denticulata  is  a  fine  species,  with  bright 
mauve  flowers  on  tall  stalks.  P.  Sikkimensis  is 
probably  the  most  distinct  of  the  Himalayan 
kinds,  with  lemon-colored  and  deliciously-scent- 
ed  trusses  borne  on  lofty  scapes.  This  must  be 
raised  from  seed  in  pans  or  boxes;  then,  if 
planted  out  in  shade  in  early  autumn,  the  plants 
flower  moderately  well  the  following  June.  The 
second  June  they  flower  still  finer,  but  after  that 
they  die,  or  deteriorate,  and  have  to  be  replaced 
by  fresh  seedlings.  It  is  one  of  the  latest  of  its 
family  to  bloom.  Nearly  all  the  many  varieties 
of  the  Japanese  P.  Sicboldi  are  charming,  being 
perfectly  hardy,  unusually  free-flowering,  and 
remarkable  for  the  size  of  trusses  and  flowers. 
A  strain  of  English  primrose,  called  Dean's 
high-colored  hybrids,  has  produced  some  most 
tender  and  fascinating  colors. 

In  many  instances  of  primroses  raised  from 
seed,  it  is  puzzling  to  know  just  where  the  poly- 


109 


anthus  begins  and  the  primrose  leaves  off  —  they 
seem  to  run  into  one  another  through  hybridiza- 
tion. Our  native  primroses  number  but  few  spe- 
cies. P.  farinosa,  or  bird's-eye  primrose,  also 
a  native  of  Europe,  is  found  in  several  localities. 
P.  Mzstassim'ca,  a  small,  rose-colored  species, 
rarely  seen  under  cultivation,  occurs  in  several 
Northern  and  Eastern  States.  The  finest  of  in- 
digenous species  is  P.  Parry  z,  common  in  Ne- 
vada, the  Rocky  Mountains  of  Colorado,  and  the 
Uintahs,  at  an  altitude  of  six  thousand  to  ten 
thousand  feet.  This  flowers  from  July  to  Sep- 
tember, bearing  fine  rose-colored  blossoms  with 
yellow  eyes,  on  tall  stalks  —  a  distinct  and  hand- 
some hardy  species.  One  should  have  a  great 
bank  of  primroses  placed  in  partial  shade,  to 
enjoy  their  fragrance  and  color  en  masse.  And 
they  should  be  raised  from  seed  at  least  every 
other  year,  to  keep  up  a  supply  of  young  plants, 
and  to  distribute  among  one's  friends.  But  their 
most  appropriate  place  is  the  Alpine  garden, 
where  they  form  dense  cushions  of  bloom,  and, 
with  the  daffodils,  form  a  garden  in  themselves. 
In  English  poetry  the  primrose  shares  an 
equal  place  with  the  violet  and  daffodil.  It  is 
referred  to  as  the  "  lady  of  the  springe,"  "  win- 
ter's joyous  epitaph,"  "  merry  spring-time's  har- 
binger," "sweet  infanta  of  the  year,"  "the 


no  Ci)e  Garten's  Story. 

welcome  news  of  sweet,  returning  spring,"  "  the 
precious  key  of  spring  "  ;  and  most  conspicuous- 
ly by  Shakespeare,  who  associates  it  with  the 
daffodil  and  violet  in  the  flowers  let  fall  from 
Dis's  wagon.  Here,  where  it  is  comparatively 
scarce  under  cultivation,  its  beauties  have  only 
been  sparingly  sung  by  the  poets,  who  neverthe- 
less freely  voice  the  praises  of  the  snow-drop, 
crocus,  and  daffodil.  Among  our  native  flowers, 
the  arbutus,  violet,  and  gentian  are  freely  singled 
out  by  the  poets,  and  the  azalea,  bloodroot,  he- 
patica,  and  cardinal-flower  all  come  for  their 
share  of  appreciation.  I  do  not  recall  any  poem 
on  the  spring  beauty,  the  meadow-rue,  the  rue- 
anemone,  or  the  moss- pink.  Lowell  is  poet- 
laureate  of  the  dandelion,  and  Emerson  the  bard 
of  the  rhodora.  The  wind-flower,  or  anemone, 
a  well-known  flower  in  American  verse,  would 
become  a  favorite,  if  only  from  Whittier's  breezy 
lines : 

And  violets  and  wind-flowers  sway 
Against  the  throbbing  heart  of  May. 

Of  all  forms  of  cultivating  flowers,  rock-gar- 
dening is  the  most  fascinating.  Within  a  small 
space  you  may  grow  innumerable  dainty  plants, 
which  would  be  swallowed  up  or  would  not 
thrive  in  the  border — delicate  Alpines,  little 
creeping  vines,,  cool  mosses,  rare  orchids,  and 


(The  lXocfc*<£artJen.  111 


much  of  the  minute  and  charming  flora  of  the 
woods  and  mountains.  Over  this  rock  may  trail 
the  fragrant  sprays  of  the  twin-flower ;  here,  at 
the  base,  a  carpet  of  partridge-vine  may  be 
pierced  by  the  wild-wood  and  meadow-lilies,  and 
there  a  soldanella  or  Alpine  gentian  flash  beside 
the  fronds  of  an  English  fern.  Then,  its  con- 
stant variety,  and  the  inconceivable  amount  of 
plants  it  will  contain  !  And  how  they  develop 
and  thrive  among  the  rocks,  where  the  roots 
have  only  to  dive  down  to  keep  cool !  I  speak 
of  the  rock-garden  as  distinguished  from  the 
"  rockery  " — that  embellishment  to  be  found  in 
company  with  the  geranium-bed,  surrounded  by 
whitewashed  stones ;  and  iron  stags  or  grey- 
hounds standing  guard  over  the  growth  of  a  hop- 
vine  up  a  mutilated  Norway  spruce.  With  the 
"rockery"  we  are  all  familiar— that  nightmare 
of  bowlders,  that  earthquake  of  stones  dumped 
out  on  to  the  hottest  portion  of  the  lawn,  with  a 
few  spadefuls  of  soil  scattered  among  them. 
Into  this  scant  pasturage,  where  even  a  burdock 
would  cry  out  for  mercy,  dainty  plants  are  turned 
to  graze.  Fancy  the  rude  shock  to  a  glacier- 
pink  or  a  Swiss  harebell !  The  bowlder  with  a 
"  pocket "  is  always  at  a  premium,  and  within 
this  parched  receptacle,  where  nothing  but  Se- 
dumacre'vt  the  common  saxifrage' could  sub- 


H2 


sist,  is  placed  a  delicate  Alpine.  Of  course,  this 
is  merely  the  death-warrant  of  the  subject. 
Some  tough  and  weedy  species,  that  thrive  on 
neglect,  may  survive  the  broiling  ordeal.  Usu- 
ally only  the  rocks  and  Sedums  remain,  and  the 
cultivation  of  Alpines  is  given  up  in  disgust. 

To  grow  Alpine  plants  successfully,  it  is 
necessary  to  understand  the  object  of  the  rock- 
garden  —  its  special  adaptation  to  a  very  large 
class  of  beautiful  plants,  which  find  in  it  the 
root-moisture  and  natural  surroundings  they  re- 
quire. Many  of  these  are  too  minute,  many  too 
fastidious,  to  be  grown  in  any  other  way.  The 
novelty,  the  delightful  variety  and  charm  which 
the  rock-garden  lends  to  the  cultivation  of  flow- 
ers can  scarcely  be  overestimated.  From  the 
very  requirements  of  most  Alpine  plants,  which 
love  to  run  deeply  into  the  soil  in  search  of 
moisture,  it  is  self-evident  that  there  should  be 
no  unfilled  spaces  left  between  the  base  and  sur- 
face. The  rocks  should  be  firmly  imbedded  in 
the  soil,  with  sufficient  space  left  between  them 
for  root  development  of  the  plants.  While  the 
hideous  chaos  of  stones  of  the  average  "  rock- 
ery "  can  not  be  too  severely  condemned,  half- 
buried  bowlders,  showing  here  and  there  their 
weather-beaten  sides,  have  a  picturesque  look, 
especially  when  the  flowering  season  is  over. 


113 


The  form  of  the  rock-garden  will  depend  largely 
on  the  character  of  the  surroundings.  Nothing 
can  be  more  beautiful  than  a  rock-garden  at  the 
base  of  a  declivity,  with  the  center,  perhaps, 
forming  a  natural  grotto  half  smothered  with 
trailers  and  ferns.  A  rigid  wall  of  rock  will  be 
avoided,  while  a  round  or  even  an  oval  mound  is 
less  pleasing  than  a  form  of  somewhat  irregular 
outline.  Whatever  form  may  be  chosen,  the 
rock-work  should  be  constructed  with  a  view  of 
growing  Alpine  plants,  and  subordinating  geo- 
logical effects. 

The  soil  is  a  matter  of  prime  importance. 
Often,  "  potting-earth,"  as  it  is  termed,  is  used, 
which  becomes  stiff  and  cakes  badly  during  hot 
weather.  For  the  majority  of  rock-plants  a 
sandy  loam  proves  most  suitable.  In  some  por- 
tions leaf-mold  should  be  freely  mixed  with  the 
soil,  to  meet  the  requirements  of  certain  species  ; 
while  peat-loving  subjects  will  naturally  be  pro- 
vided with  the  soil  they  prefer.  A  top-dressing 
of  fine  old  leaf-mold  and  fresh  loam  every  au- 
tumn will  prove  of  advantage  both  in  supplying 
the  waste  of  soil  from  washings,  and  in  serving 
as  a  fertilizer.  I  do  not  think  the  stress  laid 
upon  an  easterly  exposure,  in  England  and  on 
the  Continent,  applies  here.  The  main  points 
with  us  are  shade  and  protection  from  draughts. 


H4  Ct)e  ffiartien's 


Spring  subjects  have  mostly  flowered  before  the 
trees  are  in  full  leaf  ;  and,  with  our  blazing  sum- 
mer suns,  overshading  through  foliage  will  sel- 
dom occur.  A  few  hours'  sunshine  during  the 
day  is  sufficient  for  most  plants  which  blossom 
after  the  latter  part  of  May.  The  rock-garden 
is  never  appropriate  in  the  center  of  a  lawn.  It 
is  a  dainty  form  of  gardening,  which  should  be 
enshrined  by  itself,  rather  than  have  its  loveli- 
ness thrust  upon  one. 

A  rock-garden  in  a  glade  of  a  wood  would 
be  charming.  This  would  afford  abundant 
shade  and  moisture  for  the  shadow  -loving 
plants  and  diminutive  ferns,  as  well  as  shelter 
from  rude  draughts,  notwithstanding  the  belief, 
which  most  of  us  had  when  we  were  children, 
that  it  was  the  trees  that  made  the  wind. 

Wherever  it  may  be  situated,  it  should  be 
readily  accessible  to  the  garden-hose.  I  find  a 
very  fine  dust-spray,  which  may  be  pinned  into 
the  ground  and  shifted  from  one  point  to  an- 
other, the  best  means  of  watering.  A  coarse 
spray  washes  away  the  earth  and  is  rude  to  the 
flowers.  With  sufficient  moisture  in  summer  and 
protection  during  winter,  many  species  which  are 
pronounced  not  hardy,  or  not  to  be  acclimated, 
may  be  grown  successfully.  Oak  and  beech 
leaves  covered  lightly  with  evergreen  boughs 


115 


form  the  best  means  of  protection.  These  should 
not  be  used  until  the  ground  is  frozen,  or  plants 
may  damp  off,  and  mice  harbor  and  cause  de- 
struction under  the  leaves. 

Generally  speaking,  more  especially  where 
the  space  is  limited,  all  plants  with  running, 
fast-spreading  root-stalks  should  be  avoided. 
Some  of  the  harebells,  for  instance,  desirable  as 
they  otherwise  would  be,  are  objectionable  on 
this  account.  They  must  be  hemmed  in  or  have 
sufficient  space,  otherwise  they  encroach  upon 
and  soon  smother  their  delicate  neighbors. 
Some  free  seeding  plants  are  also  to  be  guarded 
against.  The  Sedum,  in  many  of  its  forms,  is  a 
pest,  and  with  very  few  exceptions  should  never 
be  introduced  among  rare  and  beautiful  plants. 
I  know  of  a  rock-garden,  admirably  constructed 
at  great  cost,  which  had  to  be  virtually  torn 
apart  to  get  rid  of  the  Sedum. 

The  way  really  to  enjoy  the  cultivation  of 
Alpine  plants  is  to  build  a  new  rock-garden 
every  year,  says  Rev.  Wolley  Dod,  one  of  Eng- 
land's most  distinguished  plant-culturists  and 
botanists.  I  have  been  content  with  two  thus 
far,  and,  so  great  is  the  enjoyment  they  afford,  I 
shall  supplement  them  with  a  fern  rock-garden, 
for  the  smaller  and  more  delicate  ferns. 

When  referring  to  the   toad,   I   omitted   to 


n6  2T!)c  (Sartten's  ,Stor». 

state  that  he  is  a  treasure  among  flowers.  He 
has  a  jewel  in  his  tongue  as  well  as  his  eye,  and 
is  better  than  whale-oil  soap  as  an  insect-exter- 
minator. One  would  think  his  unwieldy  pres- 
ence must  necessarily  be  destructive  to  fragile 
plants,  yet  his  nocturnal  hoppings  leave  no  trace 
of  injury  to  the  most  delicate  flowers.  How 
many  gnats  and  flies  and  borers  and  aphides  he 
snaps  up  with  his  sphinx-like  tongue  during  the 
day,  from  behind  the  cool  rock  where  he  appears 
to  be  dozing,  Gilbert  White,  I  believe,  has  never 
computed.  Richard  Jefferies  speaks  of  a  straw- 
berry-patch, the  constant  resource  of  all  creeping 
things,  where  one  toad  always  resided,  and  often 
two,  and,  as  you  gathered  a  ripe  strawberry, 
you  might  catch  sight  of  his  black  eye  watching 
you  take  the  fruit  he  had  saved  for  you.  The 
toad  takes  excellent  care  of  the  insects,  but,  un- 
fortunately, can  not  manage  the  snails,  which, 
unless  carefully  watched,  are  sometimes  quite 
destructive  to  the  tender  leaves  of  certain  plants. 
Since  the  scillas,  hepaticas,  and  spring-beauty 
have  faded,  another  colony  of  flowers  has  ap- 
peared. The  primrose  yet  remains,  with  tufts 
of  later-flowering  polyanthus  and  troops  of 
merry -eyed  auriculas.  Saxifraga  cordzfolia 
and  its  varieties  have  thrust  out  their  large 
trusses  of  rosy  blossoms  above  their  glossy 


117 


leaves  ;  and  S.  peltata,  the  gigantic  species  of 
the  Sierra  Nevadas,  has  sent  up  its  tall  stalks 
crowned  with  corymbs  of  pale-pink  flowers, 
which  appear  before  the  huge,  shield-like  leaves. 
Two  varieties  of  this  species  occur,  one  found 
at  an  elevation  of  six  thousand  to  seven  thousand 
feet,  and  the  other  growing  in  and  along  streams 
through  the  lower  and  warmer  portions  of  Cali- 
fornia. The  former  is  evidently  much  hardier 
and  also  more  effective,  its  leaves  in  its  na- 
tive habitat  often  attaining  a  diameter  of  from 
three  to  four  feet.  S.  longifolia,  of  the  Pyre- 
nees, is  difficult  to  establish,  but  its  near  rela- 
tion, S.  cotyledon,  which  John  Addington  Sy- 
monds  singles  out  as  the  finest  of  all  the  plants 
of  the  Alps,  forms  fine  rosettes,  although  it  has 
as  yet  refused  to  bloom  for  me. 

The  jonquils,  Trillium  grandiflorum,  the 
rue-anemones,  the  tiarella,  the  purple  and  white 
Phlox  sitbulata,  the  white  Erythronium  and 
Trillium  erythrocarpum,  are  all  in  holiday  at- 
tire. If  we  had  not  Narcissus  poeticus,  the  lat- 
ter might  almost  take  its  place,  with  its  swan- 
white  corolla  and  pheasant's  eye.  The  rosy 
umbels  of  the  garland-flower  (Daphne  cneorum) 
exhale  such  a  delicious,  penetrating  perfume, 
that  one  is  loath  to  leave  it.  Its  opening  crimson 
buds  always  tell  me  pleasant  weather  has  come 


to  stay.  A  native  of  the  European  mountain- 
ranges,  it  is  one  of  the  jewels  of  the  rock-garden. 
But  it  is  apt  to  prove  capricious,  and  suddenly 
disappoint  one  by  being  winter-killed.  Peat  is 
usually  prescribed  for  it.  The  finest  specimens 
I  have  ever  seen  grew  almost  neglected,  in  rath- 
er poor,  sandy  soil,  half-hidden  by  quack-grass. 
Gardeners  should  keep  a  memorandum,  to  strike 
a  potful  of  cuttings  every  June,  taken  from  as 
near  the  root  of  the  plant  as  possible  ;  cuttings 
grow  slower,  but  make  better  plants  than  layers. 
D.  rupestrts,  allied  to  cneorum,  and  the  white 
blagyana,  I  have  vainly  attempted  to  establish. 
The  former  is  undoubtedly  hardy  with  winter 
protection,  a  microscopic  plant  having  withstood 
two  winters,  and  then  dying  off  in  summer. 

The  English  nursery-men  should  be  prose- 
cuted for  plant-infanticide.  The  miserable  little 
sticks  they  send  out  are  most  of  them  too  feeble 
to  withstand  a  short  journey,  and,  even  with 
greenhouse  coddling,  are  too  weak  and  preco- 
cious to  revive.  The  charges  are  certainly  not 
at  fault,  for  these  would  warrant  adult  plants 
instead  of  weaklings.  Perhaps  this  stricture 
should  not  be  confined  to  England,  but  apply 
equally  to  the  Continent  and  America. 

Of  plants  that  grow  in  low-spreading  masses 
several  species  of  the  Phlox,  a  genus  exclusively 


STfje  3&ocft*<!5arTien.  119 

North  American,  are  most  desirable.  P.  subu- 
lata,  or  moss-pink,  the  little  evergreen  with  lav- 
ender-colored flowers,  together  with  the  white 
and  many  other  varieties,  are  all  charming  sub- 
jects. How  gracefully,  too,  the  moss-pink  drapes 
a  grave,  paying  its  lovely  but  voiceless  tribute 
to  the  departed !  P.  procumbens  succeeds  su- 
bulata,  but  neither  its  color  nor  its  habit  is  as 
pleasing.  P.  amaena,  with  lighter-colored  pur- 
ple flowers  and  of  dwarfer  habit,  is  preferable 
to  the  latter.  Prettier  than  either  of  these  is  a 
much  larger  growing  species,  P.  divaricata, 
whose  profusion  of  bluish  or  lilac  flowers,  on 
stems  a  foot  high,  perfume  the  places  where  it 
grows.  Under  cultivation,  it  increases  rapidly 
in  full  sunshine.  Growing  near  it,  in  a  rich 
wood,  I  found,  the  other  day,  a  colony  of  Viola 
rostrata,  one  of  our  most  beautiful  species,  rare 
in  this  vicinity.  It  has  a  long,  slender  spur,  the 
four  lavender  petals  beautifully  stained,  and  pen- 
ciled with  dark  purple.  The  flower  is  of  good 
size,  and  its  hue  might  almost  correspond  to 
the  "  lids  of  Juno's  eyes." 

The  white-umbeled,  evergreen,  sand-myrtle 
(Leiophyllum  buxifolium)  is  in  bloom,  togeth- 
er with  the  yellow  Polygala  lutea,  and  the  lit- 
tle yellow  heath-like  Hudsonta  tomentosa  of  the 
New  Jersey  pine-barrens.  There  are  very  many 


I2O  CTf)e  (Barren's  JStorj. 

easier  things  to  grow ;  they  demand  a  partially 
shaded  position,  and  peat  freely  sprinkled  with 
silver  sand. 

A  host  of  Iceland  poppies  (Papaver  nudt- 
caule)  has  been  called  forth  by  the  spring  sun- 
shine. They  are,  of  all  familiar  poppyworts,  the 
most  beautiful,  gracefully  poised  on  tall  scapes 
that  nod  and  toss  and  flutter  with  every  passing 
breeze.  It  is  scarcely  of  these  that  Burns  says : 

Pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread  ; 
You  seize  the  flower,  the  bloom  is  shed. 

Or  Keats : 

At  a  touch,  sweet  pleasure  melteth, 
Like  to  poppies  when  rain  pelteth. 

They  are  less  fugacious  than  most  of  their  wide- 
spread family,  and  there  is  always  a  fresh  blos- 
som to  supply  the  one  which'  has  passed.  The 
foliage  is  more  delicate  than  that  of  any  other 
species  I  am  acquainted  with,  unless  it  be  its 
little  relative,  the  Alpine  poppy  (P.  Alpinuiri). 
Meconopsis  Cambrica,  the  Welsh  wildling,  some- 
what resembles  it,  though  it  is  coarser,  more 
fugitive,  and  not  nearly  so  floriferous.  This 
does  best  in  damp,  sandy  soil  near  water.  As 
it  is  apt  to  die  off  the  second  year  on  dry  soils, 
it  is  well  to  raise  it  from  seed,  which  germinates 
readily.  Meconopsis  Nepalensis,  the  finest  of 


121 


the  Himalayan  species,  I  have  three  times  failed 
to  raise  from  seed  ;  it  is  said  to  be  a  most  ca- 
pricious plant  —  either  the  seed  is  nearly  always 
bad,  or  conditions  are  not  favorable  for  germina- 
tion more  than  once  in  two  or  three  years. 

Like  all  of  its  tribe,  the  Iceland  poppy  revels 
in  sunshine,  thriving  best  in  sandy  soil.  All  its 
forms  are  delicately  beautiful,  the  yellow,  white, 
orange-scarlet,  and,  rarest  of  all,  a  color  I  can 
only  describe  by  comparing  it  to  the  plumage  of 
the  scarlet  tanager.  This  is  the  only  one  of  its 
species  I  know  of  which  has  a  pleasant  perfume. 
It  is  easily  raised,  and  seed  should  be  sown  out 
of  doors  in  August,  or  plants  left  to  seed  them- 
selves. Occasionally  among  seedlings  a  semi- 
double  form  will  occur,  and  also  a  very  beauti- 
ful dwarf  form,  more  frequently  white  than  yel- 
low, with  short,  stiff  stems  often  bearing  fifteen 
to  twenty  flower-cups  within  a  diameter  of  five 
inches.  A  cream-colored  semi-double  form,  with 
larger  flowers  than  the  type,  is  also  very  beauti- 
ful. I  sow  seeds  of  the  white  and  orange-scar- 
let forms  only  ;  but  of  the  latter  the  greater  part 
come  yellow.  Though  perfectly  hardy,  it  is  well 
to  treat  it  as  an  annual,  and  thus  always  keep  up 
a  good  supply  of  young  plants  to  fill  spaces  made 
vacant  by  the  daffodils  when  they  die  down,  or 
to  group  freely  in  the  borders.  P.  umbrosum, 
9 


122 


a  hardy  annual  from  the  Caucasus,  is  larger,  and 
not  quite  so  neat  in  habit,  yet  strikingly  beauti- 
ful with  its  dark-red  petals  blotched  with  black. 
P.  Hookeri  is  another  handsome  annual  recently 
introduced,  extremely  variable  in  the  color  of  its 
brilliant  flowers. 

Gentiana  acaulis  gives  us  one  of  the  most 
indelible  blues  of  spring,  a  lovely,  large,  urn- 
shaped  blossom  clinging  closely  to  the  leathery 
leaves.  An  Alpine  and  Pyrenean  plant,  it  is 
perfectly  hardy  and  not  difficult  to  cultivate. 
It  is  larger  and  more  robust  than  its  still  pret- 
tier and  near  relative,  G.  verna,  which  opens 
its  blue  stars  about  a  week  later.  This  does 
best  in  a  slightly  shaded  and  well-drained  posi- 
tion, and  when  abundantly  supplied  with  water 
during  midsummer.  I  may  call  it  the  sapphire 
of  the  rock-garden,  as  its  exquisite  blue  flower 
is  termed  the  gem  of  the  mountain-pastures  of 
southern  Europe  and  Asia.  Much  later  to  ap- 
pear is  our  own  fringed  gentian  (G.  crinita\ 
mirroring  the  blue  October  skies,  and  excep- 
tional for  the  four  fringed  lobes  of  its  corolla. 
G.  Andrewszi,  also  a  native,  has  its  deep  pur- 
ple-blue flowers  striped  within  with  whitish 
folds.  You  are  fortunate  if  you  can  transplant 
the  fringed  gentian  successfully  ;  it  is  like  the  ar- 
butus, and  pines  away  from  its  home.  All  the 


123 


gentians  are  beautiful  and  worthy  of  special 
culture  ;  all,  however,  are  difficult  to  raise  from 
seed. 

A  classic  flower,  for  it  occurs  in  Greece  and 
along  the  Mediterranean,  is  the  scarlet  wind- 
flower  (Anemone  fulgens).  Its  early  flowering 
habit  causes  it  to  start  so  soon  that,  while  un- 
questionably hardy  with  protection,  it  simply 
throws  up  its  leaves  without  blossoming.  In 
its  own  country  it  comes  up  in  autumn,  but  the 
winters  are  so  mild  it  does  not  suffer.  It  should 
be  treated  like  the  tazzetta  Narcissus,  and  its 
tubers  stored  until  November  ;  a  red  wind-flow- 
er is  so  unusual  a  departure  from  the  type  that 
one  can  afford  to  bestow  upon  it  special  pains. 
A.pulsattlla,  the  European  pasque-flower,  distin- 
guished for  its  large,  solitary,  violet-purple  flow- 
ers, succeeds  in  well-drained  limestone  soil.  The 
double  of  the  common  native  wind-flower  (A. 
nemorosa),  discovered  a  few  years  since  in  Con- 
necticut, is  said  to  be  a  valuable  variety,  lasting 
much  longer  in  bloom  than  the  type.  The  snow- 
drop wind-flower  (A.  sylvestris),  of  Siberia  and 
central  Europe,  is  a  lovely  species,  bearing  me- 
dium-sized white  flowers  and  blossoming  in  June, 
not  unlike  a  small  white  Japanese  anemone.  A. 
palmata,  Alpina,  and  blanda  are  all  tender 
species,  and  so  difficult  to  manage  in  England 


124  £&c  (Sartoen's  Stern. 

that  it  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  attempt  them. 
The  anemone  is  poetically  named  from  anemos, 
the  wind,  on  account  of  the  exposed  places 
where  it  blows. 

Without  doubt  Iris  reticulata  is  the  most 
beautiful  of  its  tribe  for  the  Alpine  garden.  Its 
early  flowering  habit,  the  beauty  of  its  blossom, 
and  pronounced  violet  odor,  all  render  it  excep- 
tionally valuable.  It  blossoms  well  with  me 
the  first  year,  only  to  serve  me  like  some  of  the 
daffodils  and  auratum  lilies  the  second;  a  dif- 
ferent soil,  possibly,  might  tell  a  different  story. 
No  fault  can  be  found  with  the  common  little 
/.  pumila,  likewise  very  early,  and  a  species 
which  increases  rapidly.  /.  crtstata,  a  very 
dwarf  native  species,  produces  large,  handsome 
lavender  flowers,  blossoming  almost  on  the 
ground  from  its  creeping  rhizomes. 

All  the  Iberis  are  charming  evergreen  rock- 
plants,  the  coolest-looking  of  the  spreading  spring 
flowers.  There  can  be  scarcely  anything  more 
beautiful  to  cushion  or  overhang  a  ledge  of  rock 
than  any  of  the  forms  of  this  hardy  mountaineer. 
The  varieties  cortfolia  and  correcefolta  should 
not  be  confounded,  for  both  are  needed ;  the 
latter  blossoming  when  the  former  has  nearly 
passed.  There  is  a  blush-tinge  to  the  large- 
flowered  Gibraltarica,  otherwise  similar  to  the 


STije  ilocft=®farTJcn.  125 

common  sempervirens,  though  not  so  hardy. 
I.  tenorzana,  with  purplish-white  flowers,  and 
/.  jucunda,  with  small  pink  blossoms,  also  de- 
serve a  place.  Desirable  among  white  flowers 
is  the  hardy  little  Alpine  catchfly  (Stlene  alpes- 
iris],  and  the  smaller  Tunica  saxifraga,  that 
blossoms  all  summer.  If  you  wish  sheets  of 
blue  in  June,  Veronica  verbenacea  should  not 
be  overlooked,  a  pretty  lavender-blue,  and  V. 
rupestris,  a  smaller,  deeper-colored,  and  more 
compact  variety.  V.  pumila  is  loosely  habited 
and  inferior  to  either  of  these.  The  diminutive 
V,  repens  is  a  valuable  carpet-plant.  It  is  the 
first  of  its  tribe  to  appear,  almost  smothered 
with  small  pale  lavender  blossoms  in  early 
spring. 

Of  native  wildlings,  false  Solomon's -seal 
{Smilacina  bifolid)  is  easily  naturalized  in 
shade.  The  little  yellow  star-grass  (Hypoxzs 
erect  a}  will  grow  almost  anywhere.  Among 
trailing  plants  proper,  there  are  none  which 
exhale  such  a  flavor  of  the  woods  as  the 
twin-flower  (Linncza  borealis),  a  favorite  of 
Linnaeus,  and  named  in  honor  of  the  great 
botanist.  It  is  not  at  all  difficult  to  estab- 
lish, as  might  be  supposed,  growing  in  sun- 
shine, and  luxuriating  in  light,  moist  soil  and 
deep  shadow. 


126 


The  partridge-vine  (Mttchella  repens)  is 
readily  established,  and  is  not  over-particular 
as  to  a  sun-umbrella.  The  partridge  or  ruffed 
grouse  are  fond  of  its  sweet  fruit,  and  hence  the 
common  name.  There  can  be  no  prettier  car- 
pet-plant ;  when  well  established,  it  forms  a  thick 
mat  of  dark-green  leaves  covered  with  lilac- 
scented  white  flowers  in  June,  and  studded  with 
brilliant  scarlet  berries  in  autumn.  It  is  easily 
transplanted.  Where  it  can  not  be  had  in  large 
clumps,  it  should  be  gathered  in  preference 
from  dry,  sunny  positions,  and  planted  closely 
together,  with  a  layer  of  chopped  sphagnum 
on  the  ground  between  and  all  about  it,  be- 
ing careful  not  to  cover  it.  Where  the  space 
is  ample,  the  false  miter-  wort  (Tiarella  cor- 
dtfoh'a),  also  prettily  termed  foam-flower,  may 
be  used  to  advantage.  A  trailing  plant,  it  is 
a  vigorous  grower,  with  large,  shining,  cordate 
leaves,  and  graceful  racemes  of  white  flowers 
in  May. 

The  common  winter-green,  like  the  common 
polypody,  generally  prefers  nature  for  a  garden- 
er. Even  on  dry  hummocks  where  it  occurs 
wild,  it  draws  an  element  that  it  does  not  seem 
to  find  with  artificial  surroundings.  I  think  there 
is  much  in  the  heavy  condensation  at  night  in 
and  near  woods  and  streams  which  explains  the 


127 


deterioration  of  numerous  wild  plants  under  cul- 
tivation ;  it  is  not  always  merely  a  question  of 
soil,  shade,  or  exposure.  Many  wild  trailing 
plants  succeed  better  when  grown  in  large  mass- 
es, doubtless  because  they  thus  retain  the  moist- 
ure longer.  The  winter-green,  nevertheless,  will 
do  fairly  well  in  shade,  tightly  packed  in  a  mixt- 
ure of  old  leaf-mold  and  loam.  The  goldthread 
(Coptis  trifolid)  is  one  of  the  finest  of  all  small 
carpet-plants,  and  is  easily  naturalized  in  leaf- 
mold  and  partial  shade. 

Vaccinium  macrocarpon,  the  common  cran- 
berry, is  a  fleet  runner  over  the  sphagnum,  and 
bears  transplanting  even  in  sandy  soil,  where  it 
forms  a  neat  carpet,  but  not  nearly  so  dense  or 
of  so  thick  a  pile  as  the  partridge-vine.  With 
the  Mitchella,  Coptis,  and  Linncea  very  many 
dainty  native  wild  flowers  may  be  associated, 
such  as  false  Solomon  's-seal,  Pyrola  elltptica 
and  rotundifolta,  wood-anemones,  star-flowers, 
false  violet,  star-grass,  and  others.  The  little 
oak-fern  and  common  polypody  look  pretty 
springing  from  the  dark  undergrowth.  But 
the  twin-flower,  partridge-vine,  and  goldthread 
are  so  charming  themselves  that,  in  some  places 
at  least,  the  carpet  should  be  formed  of  them 
alone. 

Many  of  our  native  orchids  are  among  the 


128  £t)e  ©fartren's  Storg. 

most  beautiful  of  plants  for  the  shady  portion 
of  the  Alpine  garden.  The  showy  orchis  (Or- 
chis spectabilis),  the  earliest  of  the  Orchidacea, 
thrives  under  cultivation.  The  yellow  lady's- 
slippers  (Cyprtpedium  pubescens  and  parviflo- 
rum)  will  do  in  the  open  border,  but  they  never 
look  appropriate,  and  the  blossoms  never  attain 
the  size  or  last  as  long  as  they  do  cultivated  in 
shade.  I  have  found  both  in  nature,  however, 
where  the  shade  had  been  cut  down,  with  thrifty 
stalks  and  well-formed  roots.  Indeed,  the  habi- 
tat of  these  two  lady's-slippers  varies  extremely, 
both  occurring  (the  large  pubescens  particularly) 
on  dry,  sandy  banks  and  low,  swampy  woods ; 
in  marshy  places  the  plants  attain  a  far  larger 
size  and  remain  much  longer  in  blossom.  The 
showy  or  pink  lady's-slipper  (C.  spectabile)  is 
likewise  easily  grown  when  its  natural  surround- 
ings are  imitated ;  it  is  the  showiest  of  all  ter- 
restrial orchids,  and  among  the  most  distinct 
and  beautiful  of  hardy  plants.  I  find  this  does 
better,  when  transplanted,  if  the  new  shoot  is 
cut  out  of  the  old  wig  of  roots  below  it,  the  old 
roots  seeming  to  encumber  the  plant.  C.  acaule, 
the  stemless  lady's-slipper,  is  a  very  handsome 
variety,  erroneously  thought  to  be  almost  impos- 
sible to  establish.  I  find  its  purple  flower  some- 
times in  dry  places,  but  commonly  in  damp 


129 


woods.  C.  artettnum,  the  ram's-head  lady's- 
slipper,  a  rare  form,  is  easily  cultivated  in  moist 
garden-soil  with  partial  shade. 

Of  the  Habenarias,  H.  fimbrtata,  the  great 
fringed  orchis  which,  with  psychodes,  is  found 
in  wet,  rich  leaf-mold,  is  not  difficult  to  cultivate. 
They  are  both  of  marked  beauty,  the  tall,  brill- 
iant purple  spike  of  the  former  being  a  very  con- 
spicuous object  in  the  woods.  H.  ciltaris,  the 
yellow  fringed  orchis,  is  difficult  to  manage.  I 
have  been  surprised  to  be  most  successful  with 
the  most  delicate,  H.  blephartglottts.  This  is, 
I  think,  the  loveliest  of  the  Habenartas,  attain- 
ing a  height  of  from  one  to  one  and  a  half  feet, 
with  a  spike  of  white-fringed,  deliciously  odor- 
ous flowers  lasting  long  in  bloom.  Its  habitat 
is  cool  sphagnum  swamps,  the  plants  springing 
from  the  clear  moss,  and  never  being  at  all  con- 
nected with  the  soil.  The  white-fringed  orchis 
should  be  planted  in  leaf-mold,  with  a  ball  of 
sphagnum  about  the  roots,  in  full  or  nearly  en- 
tire shade.  Arethusa  bulbosa,  also  a  lover  of 
wet  places,  and  one  of  our  most  beautiful  spe- 
cies, may  be  cultivated  with  success  if  good 
plants  are  secured  to  start  with.  Spiranthes 
cernua,  or  ladies-tresses,  and  5.  gracilis,  are 
neither  of  them  difficult  to  manage  in  partial 
shade  and  sandy  loam,  and  should  be  cultivated 


130  STIje  CSartren's  .Sstonj. 

for  their  pretty,  late-appearing  flowers.  Removal 
of  most  orchids  may  be  made  while  the  plants 
are  in  flower,  and  thus  most  easily  found,  by 
lifting  them  with  a  ball ;  great  care  must  be  ex- 
ercised at  any  period,  however,  that  the  fleshy 
tubers  sustain  no  injury. 

Of  British  species  O.  maculata  is  the  most 
satisfactory,  the  others  being  capricious,  or  find- 
ing something  unconformable  in  our  climate. 
The  dark-purple  blotches  on  the  leaves  of  mac- 
ulata are  striking;  and  while  the  plant  grows 
less  strongly  than  at  home,  it  nevertheless  does 
well,  its  flower  resembling  a  smaller  fimbriata, 
but  more  variable  in  its  shades.  The  British 
marsh  orchis  (O.  latifolia}  is  one  of  the  finest 
of  the  genus,  bearing  large  purplish-pink  flowers 
on  a  long  raceme;  it  is  always  capricious  and 
difficult  to  manage  in  its  own  country.  The 
Spanish  Orchis  foliosa,  which  is  not  unlike  lati- 
folia,  has  wintered  for  three  seasons  with  me, 
though  as  it  does  here  it  is  inferior  to  either  of 
our  own  fine  purple  Habenarias. 

As  to  orchid  culture,  very  few  of  the  terres- 
trial species  can  be  grown  in  sun  with  that  de- 
gree of  success  which  partial  shade  will  give  in 
skillful  hands.  The  use  of  carpet-plants  is  often 
of  benefit  to  the  more  delicate  species,  serving 
to  keep  the  soil  cool,  and  retaining  the  moisture 


131 


about  them  ;  a  few  pieces  of  stone  buried  around 
them  will  answer  a  similar  purpose. 

Among  suitable  rock-plants  which  should 
not  be  forgotten  are  Adonis  vernalis  (the  grace- 
ful rock-cress),  the  finer  cinquefoils,  many  of  the 
Szlenes,  Saponaria  ocymoides,  Lotus  cornicula- 
tus,  Genista  saggitalis,  the  Dodecatheons,  the 
Alyssums,  the  Androsaces,  the  Alpine  Dian- 
thus,  and  such  of  the  Alpine  harebells  as  do 
not  spread  too  much  at  the  root.  The  species 
and  varieties  specified  in  this,  and  alluded  to  in 
other  chapters,  are  a  few  of  many  desirable 
plants  suitable  for  the  rock-garden. 

There  are  hosts  of  others  I  am  not  familiar 
with  that  I  have  not  enumerated  ;  there  are 
many  that  have  not  been  alluded  to  because 
they  are  objectionable  either  on  account  of 
creeping  root-stalks,  bad  colors,  or  other  rea- 
sons ;  there  still  remain  many  tender  or  capri- 
cious subjects  it  is  difficult  to  manage  in  our 
trying  climate.  But  each  one  should  try  for 
himself  plants  which  he  thinks  desirable,  and 
thus  ascertain  their  adaptability  to  soil  and  cli- 
mate. I  am  informed,  for  instance,  that  Onos- 
ma  taurica,  one  of  the  finest  of  Alpine  plants, 
that  is  very  difficult  to  manage  in  England  and 
that  has  failed  with  me,  is'  successfully  grown  in 
Boston.  I  might  say  the  same  of  many  other 


I32 


JT!)e  Garten's 


subjects  that  succeed  in  certain  localities  and 
fail  in  others.  Capricious  plants,  however,  should 
not  be  given  up  at  the  first  failure.  The  old 
apothegm,  "  If  at  first  you  don't  succeed,"  is 
especially  applicable  to  many  subjects  of  the 
garden. 


dltje  Summer  -flowers. 


Let  us  be  always  out  of  doors  among  trees  and  grass  and 
rain  and  wind  and  sun.  Let  us  get  out  of  these  in-door,  nar- 
row, modern  days,  whose  twelve  hours  somehow  have  become 
shortened,  into  the  sunlight  and  the  pure  wind.  A  something 
that  the  ancients  called  divine  can  be  found  and  felt  there  still. 
RICHARD  JEFFERIES,  THE  AMATEUR  POACHER. 


VI. 
THE  SUMMER   FLOWERS. 

HE  procession  of  summer  flowers  be- 
gins to  form  the  latter  part  of  May, 
and  by  the  second  week  of  June  is 
well  started  on  its  march.  A  late  or  an  early 
spring,  a  dry  or  a  wet  May,  makes  little  differ- 
ence with  the  state  of  vegetation  on  the  first  of 
the  summer  months.  By  that  time  the  equilib- 
rium is  always  reached,  and  Nature's  balance- 
wheel  is  found  revolving  at  its  accustomed  pace. 
Not  until  the  advent  of  summer  do  the  brilliant 
large  flowers  appear ;  the  spring  flora  is  smaller, 
more  delicate,  and  generally  more  ephemeral. 
You  must  stoop  down  for  the  spring  flowers ;  the 
summer  flowers  reach  up  to  you.  The  procession 
formed  in  May  and  augmented  in  June  moves 
steadily  through  July,  when  wild  lilies  blaze  and 
tall  Habenarias  lift  their  purple  spires ;  it  moves 


136  CTftc  ©artien's  5storij. 

onward  during  August  over  stubbles  gay  with 
vervains  and  willow-herb,  and  meadows  fragrant 
with  trumpet-weed ;  it  files  more  slowly  in  Sep- 
tember along  streams  flaming  with  cardinal-flow- 
ers and  lanes  lighted  by  golden-rod ;  until  it  halts 
and  breaks  ranks  in  late  October,  crowned  with 
aster  and  everlasting,  and  strewed  with  painted 
maple-leaves.  Do  we  half  appreciate  these  sum- 
mer days  ?  We  long  for  them  in  winter,  and  wish 
the  months  were  weeks,  to  bring  them  nearer  to 
us.  Let  us  enjoy  them  when  they  come ;  let  us 
get  nearer  to  this  joyous  life  of  nature,  and  join 
in  the  procession  of  the  flowers. 

You  would  know  by  the  scent  of  the  lilacs 
that  summer  was  here.  How  fragrant  the  cen- 
ser of  June !  how  profuse  with  the  scent  of 
blossoming  vegetation ! — odors  not  alone  from 
myriads  of  plants,  but  breathing  from  orchards, 
hedges,  and  thickets,  rising  from  woods  and 
hill-sides,  blown  from  far  meadows  and  pastures. 
What  an  exhalation  of  millions  of  opening  pet- 
als, mingled  with  the  scent  of  green  growing 
things!  It  seems  as  if  Nature  could  not  do 
enough  when  her  appointed  time  arrives ;  as  if 
there  were  no  end  to  her  prodigality  of  bloom 
and  song  and  color  and  sunshine  :  birds  sing- 
ing amid  the  orchard-blossoms,  bees  plunging 
into  the  flower-cups,  meadows  smothered  with 


Summer  jflotoers.  137 


buttercups,  swamps  golden  with  marsh-mari- 
golds, woods  aflame  with  honeysuckles,  fields 
crimson  with  clover  —  bird-song,  insect-hum,  and 
flower-blossom  on  every  side  ! 

Among  the  large  flowers  of  the  garden,  the 
germanica  section  of  the  irises  is  first  to  ap- 
pear. To  recommend  any  special  varieties  would 
be  superfluous  ;  they  are  so  numerous,  and  are 
nearly  all  so  beautiful.  Easily  grown,  thriving 
in  light  soil  and  sunshine,  we  rarely  see  enough 
of  them.  This  would  not  be  the  case  if  people 
would  take  the  trouble  to  divide  large  plants, 
and  thus  not  only  obtain  them  more  abundantly 
for  another  year,  but  increase  the  size  of  the 
flowers.  The  great  bearded  iris  is  one  of  the 
most  effective  border  plants  ;  the  cut  flowers 
are  also  beautiful  when  arranged  with  their 
sword-shaped  foliage.  Tne  Kaempfert,  or  Jap- 
anese section,  is  advancing,  while  the  bearded 
iris  is  in  bloom.  Of  'these  the  varieties  and 
colors  are  also  innumerable  ;  and,  while  more 
rarely  seen,  it  is  likewise  one  of  the  finest  of 
perennials.  Naturally  a  water-plant,  it  should 
receive  abundance  of  moisture  to  acquire  its 
full  development.  Where  possible,  it  should  be 
grown  as  a  bog-plant.  I  should  like  to  see  it 
in  company  with  the  royal  fern,  sunk  deeply  in 
the  mire.  Where  the  space  of  the  rock-garden 
TO 


138  fffje  ffifartien's 


will  allow  the  use  of  large  subjects,  the  Japa- 
nese iris  may  be  appropriately  employed.  This 
species  is  so  slow  to  advance,  that  its  fine  foli- 
age retains  its  freshness  for  a  very  long  period. 
The  same  observation  will  apply  to  the  use  of 
Hemerocallis  flava  in  the  rock-garden.  The 
English  and  Spanish  sections  are  much  smaller 
species  than  either  of  the  foregoing.  Both  have 
wonderful  colors  in  blue,  bronze,  and  gold,  but 
are  not  to  be  compared  with  those  above  men- 
tioned as  border  plants.  /.  Sust'ana,  an  Ori- 
ental species,  is  one  of  the  strangest  of  hardy 
flowers  —  so  weird,  indeed,  as  to  startle  one  on 
first  beholding  it.  It  is  styled  "  mourning  iris," 
its  gray  ground  singularly  and  beautifully  reticu- 
lated with  dark  purple.  It  looks  like  an  Ori- 
ental flower  ;  you  find  it  some  morning  perched 
upon  its  stem,  a  great  orchid  on  an  iris  stalk. 
Though  it  will  withstand  our  severe  winters 
with  protection,  and  often  without,  its  flowering 
is  usually  checked.  It  should  be  treated  like 
the  tazetta  Narcissus,  or  stored  during  the  en- 
tire winter.  The  iris,  and,  for  that  matter,  all 
desirable  and  easily  grown  flowers,  should  be 
raised  on  a  sufficient  scale  to  afford  an  abun- 
dant supply  for  indoor  use. 

The  Pceonias,  including  the  tree,  herbaceous, 
and  Chinese  sections,  give  us  one  of  our  most 


?T!)e  .Summer  jFlotoers.  139 

lavish  floral  displays.  If  you  can  not  grow  rho- 
dodendrons, these  are  excellent  substitutes  in 
limestone  soil ;  they  are  equally  floriferous,  equal- 
ly large-flowered,  and  equally  varied  in  coloring. 
Earliest  are  the  single  dark  crimson  and  the 
double  fennel-leaved  P.  tenuifolta.  The  petals 
of  the  latter  are  a  vivid  scarlet-crimson,  one  of 
the  most  distinct  reds  of  the  year,  its  feathery 
foliage  unlike  that  of  any  of  its  tribe.  Roses 
are  scarcely  finer  than  some  of  the  fragrant 
Chinese  varieties,  notably  the  pure  white  fes- 
tiva,  marked  with  carmine  in  the  center,  the 
dark-crimson  Louis  Van  Houtte,  the  clear  rose 
Humeit  and  Monsieur  Boucharlat,  and  many 
others.  Nor  should  we  forget  the  old-fashioned 
red  "  piney,"  crimsoning  in  farmers'  door-yards 
at  the  pretty  things  the  great  blue-bearded  fleur- 
de-lis  is  telling  her.  The  Pceonia  may  be  said 
to  grow  itself,  and,  unlike  the  rhododendron,  is 
perfectly  hardy.  Beautiful  as  a  single  specimen, 
massed  in  rows  or  beds  few  plants  can  vie  with 
it  for  brilliancy. 

I  always  rejoice  when  the  azalea  blooms.  In 
it  I  find  a  charm  presented  by  no  other  flower. 
Its  soft  tints  of  buff,  sulphur,  and  primrose,  its 
dazzling  shades  of  apricot,  salmon,  orange,  and 
vermilion,  are  always  a  fresh  revelation  of  color. 
They  have  no  parallel  among  flowers,  and  exist 


140  £t)e  Cfarfcen's  Sstorw. 

only  in  opals,  sunset  skies,  and  the  flush  of  au- 
tumn woods.  I  admit  that  the  rhododendron  is 
magnificent  where  it  can  be  acclimated ;  but,  even 
in  England  and  on  the  Continent,  it  is  exceeded 
in  gorgeousness  by  the  azalea.  Then,  its  deli- 
cious, uncloying  perfume — why  does  not  Piesse 
embody  it  in  an  essence  ?  Its  common  name, 
—swamp  pink— brings  up  its  odor  and  its  flame. 
A  bed  of  azaleas  with  a  foil  of  dark  green  is  a 
sight  worth  going  miles  to  see,  and  an  acquisi- 
tion worth  obtaining  at  any  price  of  peat  and 
culture.  The  Ghent  nursery-men  who  have  de- 
veloped its  hues  should  receive  a  medal  of  rubies, 
topazes,  and  zircons,  executed  by  a  Cellini. 

To  the  crossing  of  our  common  American 
species,  nudiflora,  calendulacea,  and  vtscosa, 
with  A.  Pont  tea  of  southern  Europe,  and  then 
selecting  the  best  varieties  raised  from  the  seed 
of  these  crosses,  we  owe  the  so-called  Ghent 
azalea.  A.  mollis,  the  Japanese  and  Chinese 
form,  has  been  equally  improved  through  hybrid- 
ization and  selection ;  these  are  smaller  plants, 
with  larger  flowers.  The  azalea  will  not  thrive 
in  limestone  soil,  but  should  be  grown  in  peat, 
or  leaf-mold  mixed  with  garden-soil,  the  soil  well 
firmed  about  the  plants.  In  the  latitude  of  the 
lower  lake  region  they  require  winter  protec- 
tion. With  the  azalea  should  be  associated  the 


^      2Tt)e  Summer  jFlotoers.  141 

native  tall-growing  lilies,  Canadense,  Canadense 
rubrum,  and  super  bum. 

A  desirable  border-plant  is  the  columbine,  or 
Aquilegia,  in  its  many  forms.  Few  perennials 
grow  as  easily  from  seed.  They  so  very  readily 
take  crosses,  however,  that,  where  many  are 
grown  together,  they  can  not  be  reproduced  in 
the  same  character  from  their  own  seed.  A. 
chrysantha,  a  Rocky  Mountain  species,  with 
long-spurred,  canary-colored  flowers,  and  A,  cce- 
rulea,  with  deep-blue  sepals  and  white  petals, 
from  the  same  region,  are  the  finest  of  the  larger 
North  American  columbines.  A.  longissima  is 
a  species  of  western  Texas,  described  as  "  flow- 
ers opening  upward,  spreading  widely  ;  of  a  pale 
yellow,  or  sometimes  nearly  white,  or  tinged 
with  red."  Its  remarkable  characteristic  is  its 
immense  spurs,  four  inches  and  upward  in 
length.  It  has  been  raised  from  seed  in  the 
Cambridge  Botanic  Garden,  but  has  proved  ten- 
der in  that  latitude.  A  contributor  of  "Gar- 
den and  Forest,"  where  it  was  recently  figured, 
makes  this  interesting  comment  on  its  wonder- 
ful spur-formation  :  "  In  view  of  the  recognized 
adaptation  of  flowers  and  insects  to  each  other 
for  mutual  benefit,  it  is  a  question  what  long- 
tongued  moths  have  developed  side  by  side  with 
this  long-spurred  flower,  and  how  far  the  plant 


142  fftie  Garten's  <Storn. 

is  really  dependent  upon  such  insects  for  fertili- 
zation." With  the  common  scarlet  columbine 
(A.  Canadensis)  almost  ever)-  one  is  familiar, 
under  cultivation  it  nearly  doubles  in  size. 
There  are  numerous  other  American  species, 
but  none  so  fine  as  the  Rocky  Mountain  forms. 
Many  fine  hybrids  have  been  raised  from  these. 
A  cross  with  the  white  form  of  A.  vulgaris  on 
ccerulea  has  produced  a  flower  of  similar  form 
to  the  latter,  but  of  a  pure  snow-white  color, 
two  of  these  seedlings  yielding  double  white 
flowers  of  the  size  and  form  of  ccerulea.  These 
white  forms,  including  the  common  white,  are 
among  the  most  beautiful  of  all.  A.  glandu- 
losa,  the  Altaian  columbine,  and  the  scarce  A. 
Stuarti,  a  hybrid  between  A.  glandulosa  and 
A.  Witmanni,  are  pronounced  the  finest  of  the 
genus  where  they  can  be  successfully  grown, 
both  requiring  moisture  at  the  roots,  with  perfect 
drainage. 

Of  the  several  kinds  of  Hemerocallts  seen  in 
gardens,  none  equals  H.  flava,  the  old-fash- 
ioned and  always  beautiful  "  yellow  lily."  Why 
the  rusty-colored  fulva  should  be  cultivated  at 
all,  when  there  are  so  many  better  things  to  take 
its  place,  is  beyond  comprehension  ;  yet  country 
yards  and  city  gardens  are  overrun  with  this 
coarse,  spreading  plant,  whose  flower  is  neither 


Summer  JFlotoers.  143 


red  nor  orange,  nor  a  good  combination  of  both. 
It  would  require  a  gross  of  grub-hoes  to  eradi- 
cate it  from  the  highway  leading  from  any  one 
village  to  another.  Altogether  a  different  plant 
is  H.  flava,  frequently  seen  in  country  gardens. 
Indeed,  the  country  garden  often  shows  us  the 
finest  specimens  ;  and  I  have  sometimes  thought, 
the  more  dilapidated  the  homestead  and  the 
larger  the  blue  myrtle  patch,  the  finer  the  golden 
clumps  of  the  day-lily. 

My  garden  was  already  generously  stocked 
with  this  favorite  plant,  when,  driving  in  the 
country,  I  saw  two  such  uncommonly  fine  clumps 
growing  in  the  unmown  grass  of  a  farm-yard, 
that  the  remembrance  of  them  haunted  me  for 
days.  I  had  no  peace  of  mind  until  I  should 
secure  them.  How  they  would  light  the  front 
border  !  What  vasefuls  of  cut  blooms  they 
would  supply,  without  so  much  as  being  missed  ! 
An  exchange  for  a  do£en  rose-bushes  was  the 
inducement  I  held  out  to  the  old  lady  who 
owned  the  coveted  plants.  The  offer  was  ac- 
cepted —  not,  however,  without  much  persua- 
sion ;  and  the  huge  clumps,  which  one  man 
could  scarcely  lift,  were  duly  transferred  to  a 
post  of  honor.  They  threw  up  three  spikes  of 
bloom  the  following  season  !  Perhaps  they 
missed  the  chanticleer  of  the  farm-yard  to  waken 


144  £^c  Garten's  Storn. 


them  into  bloom  ;  perhaps  they  mourned  the 
old  lady's  absence  who  had  planted  them  and 
watched  them  and  smelled  them  and  compli- 
mented them,  and  given  slips  of  them  to  her  old 
lady  neighbors — who  knows  ?  I  may  add  that, 
since  being  transplanted,  the  plants  have  become 
re-established,  and  now  flower  with  their  former 
luxuriance.  In  these  same  tumble-down  farm- 
steads flourish  many  a  colony  of  the  double 
poet's  narcissus,  which  neither  you  nor  I  can 
grew  under  trees  or  in  the  open  border  half  so 
successfully. 

H.  Kwanzo  variegata  is  a  large-leaved  plant, 
attractive  for  its  variegated  foliage.  H.  Kwanzo 
fl.  pi.  is  a  robust  species,  preferable  to  H. 
fulva.  H.  graminea  is  a  smaller  flava  in 
flower  and  foliage,  and  would  be  desirable  were 
it  not  for  its  bad  habit  of  spreading  much  at  the 
root.  I  have  found  this  almost  ineradicable 
where  it  has  obtained  a  strong  foothold.  The 
least  particle  of  its  white  rootlets,  under  favor- 
able circumstances,  forms  a  plant  if  left  in  the 
ground,  and  it  soon  spreads  and  undermines  its 
neighbors.  None  of  the  species  equals  the  old- 
fashioned  flava,  one  of  the  most  satisfactory 
and  beautiful  of  hardy  flowers.  It  should  be 
planted  along  the  borders  of  a  long  drive-way, 
to  realize  its  superb  grace  and  beauty. 


STtje  Summer  jflotoers.  145 

Another  fine,  old-fashioned,  tall-growing  per- 
ennial occasionally  seen  in  country  gardens  is 
the  fraxinella  (Dictamnus  fraxinella],  so  named 
from  its  pinnate  leaves,  resembling  those  of  the 
ash.  Its  two  forms,  the  pink-purple  and  the 
white,  bear  showy  terminal  racemes  of  larkspur- 
like  flowers  in  June.  Apart  from  its  flowers  and 
graceful  foliage,  its  most  attractive  characteristic 
is  the  spicy  fragrance  of  both  leaves  and  blossoms. 
It  suggests  anise,  sweet-clover,  and  lavender. 

So  powerful  is  the  volatile  oil  generated  by 
its  flowers,  that  a  lighted  match  held  several 
inches  above  the  plant,  on  a  still,  hot  summer's 
evening,  will  cause  a  flame  to  appear.  A  native 
of  the  Levant  and  southern  Europe,  it  may  be 
increased  both  from  seed  and  root-division,  the 
former  being  preferable.  You  should  plant  it 
^long  your  favorite  walk,  with  the  lemon-balm 
and  the  anise-scented  giant  hyssop,  so  that  you 
may  pluck  a  leaf  of  them  as  you  pass. 

I  see,  in  many  an  old  homestead  along  the 
shaded  highway,  the  prim  box-hedge  inclosing 
the  garden  of  old-fashioned  flowers.  Often  as 
the  swallow  returns  do  they  rise  anew  and  blos- 
som with  perennial  freshness.  The  flowering 
locust-trees,  and  the  tansy-bed  running  wild  out- 
side the  fence,  give  a  hint  of  the  fragrance 
within,  where  I  see  the  water-bucket  ready  for 


146  C|)e  Barton's  Storn. 

its  floral  libation.  I  push  open  the  wooden  gate, 
to  be  greeted  by  the  first  snow-drops,  the  daffo- 
dils, the  yellow  crown-imperials,  the  grape- 
hyacinths.  I  see  the  blue  irises,  the  larkspurs, 
the  bell-flowers,  the  bachelor  -  buttons,  the 
monk's-hood.  I  note  the  big  double  white  pop- 
pies, the  clumps  of  sweet-clover,  the  drifts  of 
snow-pinks,  the  white  phloxes.  I  see  the  Diely- 
tras,  the  sweet-williams,  the  tall,  yellow  tulips, 
the  sword-grass  and  ribbon-grass,  and  Trades- 
cantia.  I  smell  the  sweet-peas,  the  valerian,  the 
madonna-lilies,  the  white  and  purple  stocks.  I 
inhale  the  breath  of  the  lilies  of  the  valley,  the 
brier-rose,  the  white  day-lily,  and  the  purple  wis- 
taria twining  about  the  porch.  I  see,  too,  the 
double-flowering  rockets,  the  spotted  tiger-lilies, 
the  dahlias,  the  rows  of  hollyhocks,  and  the 
phalanx  of  sunflowers. 

Then,  the  flowering  shrubs  of  the  old-fash- 
ioned garden — the  snowberries,  honeysuckles, 
and  roses  of  Sharon,  the  storm  of  the  snow- 
balls, the  mock-oranges,  and  the  great  white 
lilacs  leaning  over  the  hedge,  heavy  with  their 
blossom  and  perfume.  Nor  is  the  herb-garden 
of  the  Fourth  Georgic  forgotten,  where 

Cassia  green  and  thyme  shed  sweetness  round, 
Savory  and  strongly  scented  mint  abound, 
Herbs  that  the  ambient  air  with  fragrance  fill. 


Summer  JFlotoers.  147 


Here  grow  mint,  marjoram,  anise,  sweet-basil, 
catnip,  lavender,  thyme,  coriander,  summer- 
savory,  and,  last  but  not  least  of  the  fragrant 
labiates,  the  pungent  sage,  that  will  ruin  the 
dressing  of  many  a  Thanksgiving  turkey.  A 
sassafras-tree  not  unfrequently  grows,  by  acci- 
dent or  design,  somewhere  about  the  yard  ;  and 
there  is  sure  to  be  a  red  horse-chestnut,  or 
a  trumpet-flower,  for  the  humming-birds  to 
plunge  in. 

How  the  swallows  wheel  and  dive  over  the 
weather-beaten  barn,  and  twitter  among  the 
eaves  they  have  visited  generation  after  genera- 
tion !  And  what  a  honey-laden  wave  surges 
over  the  neighboring  clover-field  !  I  recall  such 
a  farmstead  on  the  crest  of  the  Livingston  hills, 
where  farm-life  always  appears  at  its  pleasant- 
est.  All  around  it  extends  the  panorama  of 
wood,  ravine,  and  purple  upland,  changing  with 
every  change  of  atmosphere,  open  to  every  effect 
of  sun  and  cumulus-cloud.  Here,  I  thought,  a 
philosopher  might  find  the  coveted  stone.  Life 
always  seems  so  restful  and  its  current  so  placid 
on  the  summer  hills.  But  we  forget  the  blight- 
ing frost,  the  moaning  blast,  the  wintry  shroud. 
In  life,  things  are  pretty  evenly  balanced,  after 
all  ;  and  while  summer  is  delightful  in  the  coun- 
try, to  the  most  of  us,  in  winter,  it  is  pleasanter 


148  Oe  Garten's  .Story. 

to  think  of  in  the  city.  Those  who  really  love 
the  country  in  its  harsher  aspects  are  few.  I 
doubt  if  there  exists  another  Thoreau  for  whom 
"  the  morning  wind  forever  blows,  bearing  the 
broken  strains,  or  celestial  parts  only,  of  terres- 
trial music." 

I  see,  too,  the  neglected  farm-garden ;  one 
passes  many  such  along  the  dusty  road.  Here, 
an  old  locust  and  mock -orange  have  been 
allowed  to  sprout  at  will ;  the  blue  iris  has  crept 
outside  the  fence,  with  clumps  of  double  daffo- 
dils turned  over  by  the  plow  and  flung  on  to 
the  road-side.  There,  is  a  jungle  of  stunted 
quinces  and  blighted  pear-trees.  The  spreading 
myrtle-patch  has  usurped  the  place  of  what  was 
once  a  lawn ;  tall  thistles,  hog-weed,  pig-weed, 
and  burdocks  make  and  scatter  seed  year  after 
year  ;  an  army  of  weeds  has  overrun  the  path — 
the  plantain,  purslane,  goose-grass,  dandelion, 
joint-weed,  and  mallow ;  and  a  green  goose- 
pond,  over  which  are  hovering  yellow  butterflies, 
exhales  its  miasma  in  the  sun.  Once  the  gar- 
den was  beautiful,  famous  for  its  old-fashioned 
flowers,  and  many  are  the  "  slips  "  the  neighbors 
obtained  from  its  floral  stores.  The  grain-fields 
and  fat  pastures  corresponded  with  the  luxuri- 
ance within.  But  the  farm  changed  hands  on 
the  death  of  the  owner,  and  the  new  owner 


3F1)e  Summer  JFlotoers.  149 

cared  little  for  the  flowers,  and  has  left  the  farm- 
lands mostly  to  themselves.  I  always  hurry  by 
the  farmstead  ;  its  dilapidated  out-buildings  look 
as  if  they  might  be  haunted  by  the  ghosts  of 
starved  and  neglected  animals. 

As  I  stroll  through  the  garden  toward  even- 
ing, I  find  the  brown  May-fly  has  suddenly  ap- 
peared in  legions.  Every  bush  and  tree  swarms 
with  them ;  while,  high  as  one  can  see,  the  air  is 
throbbing  with  their  undulating  flight.  Now 
up,  now  down  they  go,  flitting  on  wings  of  gos- 
samer, their  antennas  and  long  tails  balancing 
them  in  their  graceful  dance  of  an  hour.  Is  it 
simply  to  gorge  the  bats  and  the  trout,  which 
make  the  most  of  the  insect-manna,  that  the 
May-fly  is  sent  ?— for  the  naturalists  do  not  as- 
cribe a  cause  for  its  brief  existence,  in  the  rea- 
son of  nature. 

The  first  of  the  innumerable  young  broods 
of  sparrows  are  fledged,  and  have  begun  their 
interminable  shrieking.  The  foliage  is  so  thick 
that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  shoot  them  ;  and 
to  attempt  poisoning  them  is  out  of  the  question, 
on  account  of  the  few  remaining  song-birds. 
How  wretched  they  render  human  life  !  What 
a  constant  burden  for  the  ear  to  bear  !  If  they 
would  only  mew  like  the  cat-bird,  or  do  anything 
to  vary  the  tedium  of  their  incessant  "  Cheep  ! 


150  fffte  ©artjen's  Sston?. 

cheep  ! !  cheep  ! ! !  "  I  envy  the  deaf,  and  the 
fat  men  who  drown  all  other  sounds  with  the 
sound  of  their  own  wheezing.  My  neighbor's 
parrot,  who  yells  like  all  the  fiends  of  Dante's 
Inferno,  has  at  least  the  merit  of  variety  in  his 
voice.  If  the  sparrow  continues  to  multiply, 
there  will  be  a  new  verdict  rendered  at  coroners' 
juries ;  his  monotonous  cry  is  fast  abbreviating 
the  allotted  span  of  mankind. 

Meanwhile,  the  floral  procession  is  advancing 
in  the  flower-borders.  The  large  Oriental  pop- 
pies are  rightly  named,  and,  with  their  fine 
foliage  and  immense  flame-colored  blossoms,  are 
undoubtedly  the  most  gorgeous  of  garden-flow- 
ers. You  could  almost  light  your  pipe  from 
them.  The  variety  bracteatum  is  the  stouter 
grower,  holding  its  stalks  more  firmly  and  erect, 
and  is  the  superior  in  the  color  and  beauty  of 
its  lustrous,  dark  scarlet  flower.  The  petals  of 
the  Oriental  poppy  are  oddly  marked  with  pur- 
ple-black spots  inside,  forming  a  black  cross. 
Parkman's  Oriental  poppy,  originated  near  Bos- 
ton, is  another  fine  form,  as  yet  rarely  seen. 
The  Oriental  poppies  and  the  yellow  day-lily, 
blossoming  at  the  same  period,  should  be  large- 
ly employed  in  the  border  and  other  suitable 
places  of  the  garden. 

I  have  planted  the  tall,  late-flowering  tulips 


3Tf)e  Ssumnrer  iflotoers.  151 

freely  among  the  poppies,  the  luxuriant  foliage 
of  the  latter  concealing  the  naked  base  of  the 
tulips.  A  mass  of  tulips  thus  grown  produces 
a  much  finer  effect  than  when  bedded  by  them- 
selves. The  tulip  invariably  looks  better  in  neg- 
lected gardens  for  this  reason  ;  it  is  seldom  seen 
rising  from  the  bare  earth,  generally  springing 
from  the  grass  or  shrubbery,  or  at  least  having 
a  background  of  green.  Seeds  of  these  big  Ori- 
entals should  be  sown  in  February  in  the  green- 
house, so  that  they  may  germinate  early,  be 
pricked  off,  and  form  strong  plants  to  set  out  as 
soon  as  possible  in  May.  While  they  are  per- 
fectly hardy,  small  plants  are  generally  winter- 
killed. I  find  growing  among  my  P.  bractea- 
tum,  raised  from  seed,  a  distinct  variety  with 
smaller  flowers  of  a  peculiar  and  very  beautiful 
cherry-red. 

We  must  go  to  the  Orientals  to  learn  the 
true  use  and  significance  of  flowers.  "Very 
beautiful  are  the  flower-customs  here,"  says  a 
writer  from  the  lands  of  Kalidasa  and  Firdusi. 
"  In  Bombay,  I  found  the  Parsees  use  the  Victo- 
ria Gardens  chiefly  to  walk  in,  '  to  eat  the  air.' 
Their  enjoyment  of  it  was  heartily  animal.  The 
Hindoo  would  stroll  through  them,  attracted 
from  flower  to  flower  not  by  its  form  or  color 
but  its  scent.  He  would  pass  from  plant  to 


152  £l)e  (Kartell's  Sbtorj. 

plant,  snatching  at  the  flowers  and  crushing 
them  between  his  fingers  as  if  he  were  taking 
snuff.  Presently  a  Persian,  in  flowing  robe  of 
blue,  and  on  his  head  his  sheep-skin  hat,  would 
saunter  in,  and  stand  and  meditate  over  every 
flower  he  saw,  and  always  as  if  half  in  vision  ; 
and  when  the  vision  was  fulfilled,  and  the  ideal 
flower  he  was  seeking  found,  he  would  spread 
his  mat  and  sit  before  it,  and  fold  up  his  mat 
again  and  go  home.  And  the  next  night,  and 
night  after  night,  until  that  particular  flower 
faded  away,  he  would  return  to  it,  and  bring  his 
friends  in  ever-increasing  troops  to  it,  and  sit 
and  play  the  guitar  and  lute  before  it,  and  they 
would  all  together  pray  there,  and  after  prayer 
still  sit  before  it,  sipping  sherbet  and  talking  late 
into  the  moonlight ;  and  so  again  and  again 
every  evening,  until  the  flower  died.  Some- 
times, by  way  of  a  grand  finale,  the  whole 
company  would  suddenly  rise  before  the  flower 
and  serenade  it  with  an  ode  from  Hafiz,  and 
depart." 

I  suppose  we  could  not  do  without  the  June 
Pyrethrum,  it  is  so  floriferous,  and  has  such 
feathery,  deep-green  foliage.  Nevertheless,  I  see 
no  excuse  for  littering  up  a  garden  with  some 
of  its  crimson-magentas  or  magenta-crimsons. 
Weeded  of  its  bad  colors  and  bad  centers,  it  is 


?Tt)e  ^Summer  JFiotoers.  153 


certainly  worthy  of  all  praise.  It  lasts  long,  and 
its  flowers  are  excellent  for  cutting. 

Speaking  of  bad  colors,  I  think  there  is  much 
in  what  a  young  lady  once  observed  to  me  at  a 
ball,  the  conversation  turning  on  the  newly  deco- 
rated rooms.  "  I  don't  think  the  glaring  combi- 
nations and  unhappy  uses  of  color  we  frequently 
see  in  houses  and  exhibited  in  dress  so  much  the 
fault  of  individual  taste  as  of  a  deficiency  of  the 
color-sense.  Let  us  count  the  green  dresses,  of 
which  there  seem  to  be  an  unusually  large  num- 
ber present,  and  I  assure  you  in  advance  that  at 
least  every  third  person  you  ask  will  pronounce 
the  delicate  shades  of  green  blue.  It  is  the 
same  with  reds.  A  hideous  solferino  looks  all 
right  to  some ;  it  appears  the  same  shade  to 
them,  doubtless,  as  a  cardinal  or  a  terra-cotta  or 
some  other  shade  does  to  you.  I  haven't  the 
slightest  doubt  that  color-blindness  is  at  the 
bottom  of  much  of  the  distress  that  one's  eyes 
are  forced  to  encounter."  Solferino  and  magen- 
ta, or  shades  closely  touching  upon  them,  should 
not  be  tolerated  in  the  garden.  They  are  weeds, 
that  ought  to  be  eradicated  as  soon  as  they  ap- 
pear. 

A  writer  in  the  London  "  Garden  "  gives  a 
simple  rule  to  determine  whether  colors  harmo- 
nize :  "  People  who  have  no  natural  perception  of 
ii 


154  2Tt>e  ©farDen's  Sbtorjj. 

color  can  not  be  trained  to  arrange  colors  har- 
moniously by  any  code  -of  rules  ;  but  those  who 
have  a  natural  feeling  for  color  can  find  out 
whether  any  two  colors  harmonize  by  a  very 
easy  test.  Place  the  colors  separately  on  a  gray, 
white,  or  black  ground.  If  they  are  brighter, 
richer,  and  fuller  together  than  separately,  they 
harmonize ;  but  if  not,  they  should  not  be  placed 
together." 

I  could  say  more  in  favor  of  spiraea  or  Hoteia 
Japonica  were  it  not  so  susceptible  to  the  hot 
sun.  Charming  so  long  as  it  remains  fresh,  dur- 
ing average  seasons  its  foliage  is  soon  blighted 
and  its  beauty  destroyed.  The  hardy,  large 
perennial  spiraeas  are  beautiful  with  their  grace- 
ful spikes  and  plumes  and  panicles.  Of  these, 
5.  aruncus,  the  familiar  goat's-beard,  is  among 
the  finest  when  well  established  and  allowed 
sufficient  room  to  attain  its  full  development. 
5.  Humboldtii  is  equally  robust,  though  its  flow- 
ers are  not  so  pure  a  white.  The  species  fili- 
pendula  and  its  double  are  worthy  a  place  in 
the  border  if  only  for  their  graceful,  fern-like 
foliage.  5.  ulmaria  fl,  pi.,  and  its  form  with 
golden  variegated  foliage,  are  both  desirable 
species.  The  prairie  Spircea  lobata,  with  its 
rosy  carmine  cymes,  must  take  the  place  of  the 
finest  of  all  the  meadow-sweets,  the  Japanese  S. 


5T|)e  Summer  iFlotoers.  155 

palmata,  which  does  not  thrive  in  this  climate. 
Under  cultivation,  all  the  herbaceous  spiraeas 
prefer  partial  shade,  and,  to  appear  at  their  best, 
should  be  supplied  with  water  in  hot  weather, 
or  their  appearance  is  soon  marred  by  withered 
foliage. 

What  would  the  old-fashioned  garden  do 
without  the  sweet-william  ;  and  the  new-fash- 
ioned one,  too,  for  that  matter  ?  It  is  as  indis- 
pensable as  the  snow-pink,  the  carnation,  and 
the  aster.  "  Die  fallen  ins  Aug!  "  they  fall  into 
the  eye,  to  quote  from  the  gardener  once  more, 
an  apothegm  I  think  worth  embalming.  Gay 
they  are,  with  their  infinite  colorings  and  their 
prodigality  of  bloom.  The  Dtanthus  are  all  of 
them  pretty,  notwithstanding  the  interminable 
appellation  of  one,  Dianthus  smensts  Heddewtgi 
diadematus  ftore  plena  f  Leave  them  alone,  and 
they  will  sow  themselves ;  sow  the  seed  on  good 
ground,  and  they  reward  you  a  thousand-fold. 
They  vie  with  the  auriculas  in  their  merry  eyes, 
and  are  almost  as  brilliant  and  fourfold  as  last- 
ing as  the  poppies,  unless  I  except  the  Iceland- 
ers. Even  the  old  maids  love  their  sweet-will- 
iams. In  Gerarde's  day  it  was  "  esteemed  for  its 
beauty  to  deck  up  the  bosoms  of  the  beautiful, 
and  garlands  and  crowns  for  pleasure."  It  is 
well  to  caution  those  who  grow  it,  however,  not 


156  Cfte  (SarDcn's  Storp. 

to  place  it  close  to  gravel-walks,  where  the  seeds 
are  apt  to  drop  and  cause  no  little  trouble  ;  they 
germinate  so  freely.  Seeds  should  be  saved 
from  the  best  kinds,  most  desirable  colors,  and 
strongest  trusses.  The  Eschscholtzia  and  Core- 
opsis become  almost  a  pest  unless  the  seed-cap- 
sules are  cut  off,  and  the  Calendula  is  also 
troublesome  in  this  respect ;  but  the  latter  may 
be  excused,  it  is  so  warm  and  steadfast  in  late 
autumn  when  we  could  hardly  do  without  it  for 
cut  flowers. 

With  the  sweet-william  is  often  associated 
another  old  garden  favorite,  the  snow-pink  (Di- 
anthus  plumarius),  a  charming  subject  when 
well  grown.  I  once  saw  an  immense  patch  of 
this  in  front  of  a  country  cottage,  growing  so 
luxuriantly  that  the  fragrance  drifted  far  out  on 
to  the  highway.  I  stopped  to  inquire  of  the 
genius  loci,  who  was  busy  with  her  watering- 
can,  how  she  grew  them  so  finely  and  so  pro- 
fusely. "  I  pinch  them,  give  them  plenty  of 
water,  and  keep  up  a  fresh  stock  from  cuttings 
every  two  years."  The  old  story,  I  thought ; 
new  words  to  the  old  tune — "care." 

The  large  bell-flowers  are  doing  excellent 
duty  as  flowering-plants,  notably  the  old-fash- 
ioned Canterbury  bells  (Campanula  medium). 
Their  immense  scalloped  goblets  of  diversified 


Summer  iFlotoers.  157 


colors  are  preferable  in  the  single  to  the  double 
and  duplex  forms.  The  several  spikes  are  stout 
and  the  species  is  of  robust  habit,  altogether  a 
grand  border-plant.  So  also  is  the  strong  and 
taller  C.  macrantha  with  blue-purple  bells.  It 
should  have  a  partially  shaded  place  in  the  back 
row  of  every  border.  The  peach-leaved  bell- 
flower  (C.  persisctfolid]  is  an  excellent  border- 
plant,  but  does  not  hold  itself  erect  like  the  other 
species,  and  therefore  needs  staking.  All  plants, 
it  may  be  observed,  that  require  support  should 
be  staked  early,  instead  of  being  left  until  they 
begin  to  flag.  For  supports  iron  stakes  are  the 
neatest.  The  Austrian  harebell  (C.  pulld),  a 
small  species  with  lovely,  drooping  purple  bells, 
would  be  an  admirable  subject  for  the  rock-gar- 
den were  it  not  for  its  rambling  root-stalks.  C. 
barbata,  the  bearded  harebell  of  Switzerland,  I 
have  not  found  as  satisfactory  as  some  of  its 
relatives. 

To  judge  from  the  description  and  illustra- 
tion, the  finest  of  the  bell-flowers  —  if  it  may 
justly  be  termed  a  bell-flower  —  must  be  the 
Bokhara  bell-flower  (Ostrmvskia  magnified],  just 
introduced  into  Europe,  a  grand  chime  of  bells 
crowning  a  tall,  leafy  spire.  The  stem  is  stout, 
from  three  to  five  feet  high,  the  leaves  in  whorls  ; 
and  the  flowers,  which  are  five  inches  of  more 


158  3F!)e  CSartJen's  Storn. 

in  diameter,  placed  in  loose  terminal  panicle 
pale  mauve  varying  to  light  blue,  with  a  large, 
club-like  stigma.  A  country  that  can  produce 
such  rugs  as  Bokhara,  acquiring  with  time  a 
color  and  bloom  like  that  of  a  ripe  peach  and 
plum,  ought  to  contribute  an  extraordinary  flow- 
er; but  whether  the  flower  will  improve  with 
age  and  wear  in  a  foreign  climate  is  as  yet  unde- 
termined. 

I  do  not  hear  anything  of  the  great  Califor- 
nian  poppyvvort  (Romneya  Coulteri},  which 
created  such  a  stir  on  its  introduction  into  Eng- 
land. Mr.  F.  A.  Miller,  of  San  Francisco,  who 
introduced  it  twelve  or  fourteen  years  ago,  wrote 
me,  "  There  is  no  flower  that  combines  so  many 
good  qualities — such  a  fragrance,  beauty,  and 
general  effect — as  this  plant."  Unfortunately, 
it  will  not  survive  our  rigorous  climate,  and  I 
believe  it  has  failed  to  establish  itself  in  most 
gardens  where  it  has  been  tried  in  England.  In 
her  plants  California  is  not  accommodating,  as  a 
general  rule,  Nature  having  for  the  most  part 
suited  them  only  to  the  climate  of  their  birlh. 
They  are  ill  adapted  to  our  sudden  snaps  of 
winter  returned. 

The  roses  are  now  in  their  prime.  I  had 
occasion  to  cut  a  collection  this  morning — June 
22d — rising  shortly  after  three  o'clock.  A  rustling 


2T|)c  Summer  JFlotoera.  159 

of  the  tree-tops  was  the.  first  precursor  of  dawn — 
the  breeze  which  nearly  always  precedes  awak- 
ening day.  At  3.20,  before  it  was  yet  light,  the 
cat-bird  was  first  of  the  songsters  to  salute  the 
morn.  Five  minutes  afterward  the  wood-pewee 
drowsily  voiced  the  first  two  notes  of  his  refrain 
— "  whe-u  whe,  whee-u  !"  In  just  two  minutes 
more  a  robin  began  his  matin  song,  followed  by 
the  crowing  of  the  cocks,  which  quickly  ceased, 
until  at  3.40  the  wood-pewee  began  whistling 
merrily,  immediately  succeeded  by  the  robins, 
wood-thrushes,  sparrows,  and  various  song-birds, 
all  joining  in  the  morning  chorus.  At  four  the 
crescendo  was  at  its  height,  when  it  gradually 
diminished,  soon  leaving  the  sparrows  in  almost 
undisputed  possession.  I  found  the.  honey- 
bees busy  among  the  raspberry-blossoms  a  few 
minutes  after  four,  and  the  big  bumble-bees 
but  a  little  later  to  begin  their  morning  task. 
Of  all  these  early  risers  I  for  once  was  the 
earliest. 

The  hollyhock  may  be  termed  a  great  power 
in  July.  Classed  as  a  biennial,  it  might  almost 
come  under  the  head  of  perennials,  being  as 
permanent  as  many  true  perennials.  It  was  a 
favorite  of  Wordsworth  and  is  also  of  Tennyson. 
Tennyson's  summer, 

.  .  .  buried  deep  in  hollyhocks, 


160  Ct)e  (KatUni's 


is  expressive  of  the  luxuriance  of  this  Chinese 
flower.  It  should  be  seen  in  long  rows,  in  well- 
drilled  color-columns,  to  exhibit  its  most  striking 
effect,  each  plant  a  sentinel  in  uniform,  and  each 
with  rosettes  brighter  than  his  fellows.  The 
hollyhock  will  grow  anywhere  ;  it  will  grow 
doubly  well  with  deep  cultivation,  and  when  lib- 
erally manured  and  watered  during  dry  weather. 
Dampness  being  injurious  during  winter,  it  is 
recommended  to  remove  the  earth  about  the 
crowns  in  autumn  and  fill  up  with  six  inches  of 
white  sand.  Propagation  is  effected  from  eyes, 
seeds,  cuttings,  and  division.  The  thrip  and 
red  spider  are  fond  of  the  hollyhock,  and  hence 
the  rusty  appearance  so  many  plants  present. 
If  you  have  four  or  five  gardeners,  this  may  be 
obviated  by  syringing  every  leaf,  upper  and  un- 
der side,  of  the  long  rows  daily  with  whale-oil 
soap  and  tobacco-water.  The  hollyhock  also 
demands  an  admission  fee. 

The  graceful  spring  bitter-vetch  (Orobus 
vernus)  is  past  its  flowering,  but  still  retains  its 
handsome  foliage.  Hzeraceum  auranttacum  has 
passed,  after  showing  its  peculiar  orange-red 
flowers,  even  more  odd  in  color  than  those  of 
the  native  orange-red  milkweed  that  stains  the 
sandy  places  in  midsummer.  The  creamy 
trusses  of  the  tall  valerian  are  a  hive  of  sweet- 


3Tf)e  .Summer  iFlotoers.  161 

ness,  and  the  yellow  camomile  (Anthemts  tinc- 
torid)  is  covered  with  its  daisy-like  flowers,  re- 
joicing in  the  increasing  heat.  It  will  soon  be 
succeeded  by  Coreopsis  lanceolata,  another  of 
the  showy  yellow  composites,  with  the  ever- 
blooming  pea,  the  double-flowering  rocket,  and 
the  large-leaved  day-lilies,  of  which  Sieboldii  has 
the  finest  foliage,  and  the  white  variety  the  finest 
and  sweetest  flower. 

Not  without  just  reason  is  the  larkspur  in- 
cluded among  the  nine  flowers  specified  in  the 
garden  of  "  Maud  " — the  woodbine,  jasmine,  vio- 
let, acacia,  pimpernel,  rose,  lily,  passion-flower, 
and  larkspur.  Keats  should  have  included  it  in 
his  sonnet  on  blue.  Holmes  alludes  to  it  neatly 
in  the  "  Autocrat  "  : 

Light  as  a  loop  of  larkspurs — 

light  in  its  poise,  and  light  or  dark,  as  you  wish 
it,  in  its  complexion,  and  beautiful  in  all  its 
forms. 

Sauntering  at  dusk  through  the  fragrant  gar- 
den alleys,  I  hear  as  in  a  dream  the  last  faint 
notes  of  the  vesper-sparrow ;  and  see,  kindling 
the  edge  of  the  covert  and  sparkling  amid  the 
shrubbery-glooms,  the  myriad  fire-fly  revelers 
merrily  dancing  out  the  last  sweet  night  of  June. 


(Sarbett  .fatmrites. 


I  love  the  lily  as  the  first  of  flowers, 

Whose  stately  stalk  so  straight  up  is  and  stay. 

ALEXANDER  MONTGOMERY. 

.  .  .  The  coming  rose, 

The  very  fairest  flower,  they  say,  that  blows, 
Such  scent  she  hath  ;  her  leaves  are  red,  they  say, 
And  fold  her  round  in  some  divine,  sweet  way. 

PHILIP  BOURJCE  MARSTON 


VII. 
TWO  GARDEN   FAVORITES. 

LPHABETICALLY,  the  lily  comes  be- 
fore the  rose  ;  and  in  the  summer- 
garden,  which  would  lack  its  greatest 
charm  if  deprived  of  either,  the  common  orange- 
lily  appears  before  the  first  June  rose. 

Is  this  significant ;  and  shall  I  say  the  flower 
singled  out  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew's 
Gospel  excels  its  sister  in  floral  graces  and  vir- 
tues ?  The  rose,  as  we  generally  admire  it,  as  it 
is  eulogized  by  the  poets,  is  a  florist's  flower. 
Its  rival,  equally  well  known,  and  almost  if  not 
as  freely  extolled  in  poetry,  owes  less  to  man  and 
more  to  nature.  I  would  not  detract  from  the 
rose,  when  I  say  it  is  less  graceful  than  the  lily 
and  its  form  more  artificial.  In  comparative 
merits  of  color  and  fragrance  it  would  be  difficult 
to  discriminate;  each  has  its  claims  that  may 


1 66  Cf)e  ©fartien's  Storj. 

not  be  overlooked.  I  may  add,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  you  smell  of  a  lily  you  are  liable  to  be 
stained  by  its  pollen ;  and  if  you  pluck  a  rose, 
there  lurks  the  hidden  thorn.  Perhaps  the  lily 
and  the  rose,  or  the  rose  and  the  lily,  furnish  a 
case  in  point  where  comparisons  are  odious,  and 
each  one  may  better  decide  for  himself  which  is 
the  superior  flower. 

I  begin  with  the  lily,  therefore,  because  it 
comes  first  alphabetically,  and  is  first  to  appear. 
Whispered  the  white  lily  to  me  :  I  am  the  em- 
blem of  purity,  the  type  of  saintliness ;  at  the 
altar  and  at  the  tomb  I  bring  joy  and  consola- 
tion ;  in  the  garden  I  am  sweet  beyond  all  my 
companions,  and  with  my  whiteness  none  can 
compare ;  I  am  sweet,  I  am  chaste,  I  am  beloved 
by  all.  Do  you  know  my  origin  ?  "  Jupiter 
wished  to  make  his  boy  Hercules  (born  of  a 
mortal)  one  of  the  gods:  so  he  snatched  him 
from  the  bosom  of  his  earthly  mother,  Alcmena, 
and  bore  him  to  the  breast  of  the  god-like  Juno. 
The  milk  is  spilled  from  the  full-mouthed  boy  as 
he  traverses  the  sky  (making  the  Milky  Way), 
and  what  drops  below  stars  and  clouds  and 
touches  earth,  stains  the  ground  with  lilies." 

So  extensive  and  beautiful  is  the  genus 
Liltum,  so  varied  in  form,  color,  and  periods  of 
blossoming,  that,  like  the  daffodil,  a  garden  might 


STtoo  (Sartien  ifaborftes.  167 

be  composed  of  it  alone.  We  readily  concede 
its  beauty ;  the  next  thing  is  to  manage  it.  "  The 
more  I  see  of  lilies,  the  less  I  know  how  to  grow 
them,"  is  a  wise  maxim  of  H.  J.  Elwes.  One  re- 
quires tact  and  perseverance  to  grow  the  lily. 
Very  many  of  its  numerous  species  are  fastidious, 
quick  to  express  their  likes  and  dislikes ;  some, 
indeed,  refuse  to  yield  to  culture  unless  in  a  cli- 
mate of  their  own  choosing.  Yet,  after  all,  most 
of  the  species  may  be  satisfactorily  grown  if 
proper  attention  be  paid  to  soil,  position,  and 
protection. 

While  the  majority  of  the  genus  are  hardy, 
and  very  many  are  natives  of  cold  climates  or 
high  elevations,  winter  protection  to  nearly  all 
species  is  nevertheless  advisable  with  us.  If  the 
ground  remained  covered  with  snow  the  entire 
winter,  the  bulbs  would  not  surfer.  It  is  the 
alternate  and  frequent  changes  from  freezing  to 
thawing  which  contract  and  heave  the  ground 
that  causes  the  trouble,  the  bulbs  themselves 
contracting  and  expanding  with  the  changes  of 
temperature.  No  less  important  is  the  matter 
of  drainage  :  very  few  lilies  will  endure  being 
water-logged  ;  very  few,  also,  will  endure  ma- 
nure about  their  bulbs.  The  manure  harbors 
wire-worms,  which  are  fond  of  the  lily's  ten- 
der scales.  To  obviate  this,  and  to  strength- 


1 68  grtje  Barton's  Storn. 

en  root-action,  all  lilies,  on  being  planted,  should 
receive  a  liberal  sprinkling  of  sharp  sand  about 
the  bulbs. 

With  us  the  lily  is  even  more  susceptible  to 
drought  than  to  frost,  and  failure  is  oftener  the 
result  of  shallow  planting  and  poor  soil,  than 
owing  to  the  rigors  of  our  winter  climate.  Very 
much  depends  on  good,  deep,  and  congenial  soil, 
and  healthy  bulbs  to  start  with.  Partial  shade, 
with  some  species,  is  absolutely  necessary',  and 
all  are  benefited  by,  and  some  will  not  grow  at 
all  without,  a  liberal  supply  of  moisture.  Differ- 
ent species  are  as  different  in  their  requirements 
as  they  vary  in  the  character  of  their  bulbs  and 
their  periods  of  flowering.  What  holds  good  of 
one  climate  often  does  not  of  another.  I  have 
seen  magnificent  beds  of  established  Liltum  au- 
ratum  and  spectosum  on  the  Eastern  coast  in 
open  sun,  that  it  would  be  utterly  impossible  to 
grow  without  shade  in  the  lower  lake  region. 
They  liked  not  only  the  peat  and  deep  trenching, 
but  extracted  a  tonic  from  the  sea-air,  which  just 
met  their  requirements.  It  is  one  thing  to  grow 
certain  plants  where  the  climate  itself  grows 
them  ;  it  is  quite  another  thing  where  they  have 
to  be  cajoled  into  tractability.  The  more  diffi- 
cult the  task,  however,  the  greater  the  satisfac- 
tion to  accomplish  it ;  success  is  always  pleasant, 


?Ttoo  CKartien  JFaborftes.  169 

whether  to  grow  a  capricious  flower  or  banish  a 
troublesome  weed. 

The  following  is  the  last  classification  adopt- 
ed by  Mr.  J.  G.  Baker  in  his  "  Synopsis  of  all  the 
Known  Lilies,"  published  in  1875  : 

I.  Subgenus  CARDIOCR1NUM  (leaves  heart- 
shaped).      Types  :  L.   cordtfoltum,   L.  gigan- 
teum. 

II.  Subgenus    EULIRION    (flowers    funnel- 
shaped).     Types :    L.   longiflorum,   L.   candt- 
dum,  L.  Washingtontanum. 

III.  Subgenus  ARCHELIRION  (flowers  open). 
Types :   L.  tigrinum,  L.  specivsum,  L.  aura- 
turn. 

IV.  Subgenus    ISOLIRION    (flowers   erect). 
Types :   L.  croceum,  L.  concolor,  L.  Phtladel- 
phicum. 

V.  Subgenus  MARTAGON  (flowers  turban- 
shaped).     Types :   L.  niartagon,  L.  super  bum, 
L.  pomponium,  L.  polyphyllum. 

If  one  would  go  distracted  on  the  subject  of 
forms  and  varieties,  he  should  peruse  the  anno- 
tated "  Alphabetical  List  of  the  Species  and  Va- 
rieties of  Lilium,"  compiled  by  M.  d'Hoop,  a  Bel- 
gian amateur,  published  in  vol.  xxvii,  No.  692, 
of  the  London  "  Garden."  Thus,  under  L.  Cana- 
dense,  its  principal  varieties  are  described  as  L. 
C.  superbum  (intermediate  between  Canadense 

12 


170  8Tf)e  (KartJen's  .Storj. 

and  superbutri),  L.  C.  rubrum,  L.  C.  Hartwegt, 
L.  C.  minus,  L.  C.  occidental,  L.  C.  parvifto- 
rum,  /..  C.  parvum,  L.  C.  puberulum,  L.  C 
Walker i.  No  less  than  seven  forms  of  L.  Phi- 
ladelphzcum  are  mentioned  :  L.  P.  andtnum,  L. 
P.  tuanscharicum,  L.  P.  of  Brentwood,  L.  P. 
of  Connecticut,  L.  P.  of  Massachusetts,  L.  P.  of 
the  Orange  Mountains,  L.  P.  varietas  Hookeri. 
First  among  the  lilies  is  one  of  the  three  most 
common  and  easily-grown  species,  the  tall  orange- 
lily  (L.  croceum).  This  would  show  to  better 
advantage  if  it  did  not  appear  with  the  Oriental 
poppies,  which  overpower  everything  else  in  red 
about  them.  The  orange-lily  looks  best  spring- 
ing from  the  shrubbery,  and,  like  the  tiger-lily, 
needs  to  be  seen  in  strong,  well-established 
clumps,  to  show  its  real  characteristics.  The 
orange-lily  is  succeeded,  a  few  days  later,  by  one 
of  the  finest  of  lilies,  the  Caucasian  L.  colchi- 
cum,  much  less  frequently  seen  than  its  merit 
deserves— a  soft  canary-yellow  flower,  speckled 
with  small  dark-brown  spots  on  either  rim  of  the 
petals,  and  exhaling  an  intense  and  individual 
odor.  It  is  a  slow  species  to  arrive  at  perfection, 
and,  owing  to  the  cernuous  habit  of  its  flower,  is 
not  seen  at  its  best  until  well  established  and  its 
stems  rise  to  their  full  height.  As  it  blossoms 
with  the  conspicuous  lemon-yellow  day-lily,  it 


(JTtoo  <&arlren  IFaborftes.  171 

should  be  placed  where  it  may  be  seen  by  itself. 
This  species  varies  not  a  little  in  the  character  of 
its  flowers,  some  being  larger  and  deeper-colored 
than  others,  and  having  the  petals  more  freely 
spotted ;  it  is  one  of  the  easiest  of  lilies  to  raise 
from  seed.  L.  colchicum  does  well  in  the  open 
sun,  but  grows  larger  in  partial  shade,  where  it 
also  holds  its  flowers  and  foliage  better. 

The  voracious  rose-beetle  is  becoming  more 
and  more  omnivorous.  Prompt  to  appear  with 
the  first  white  Madame  Plantier  rose,  his  armies 
soon  pounce  upon  the  white  paeonias,  which 
would  be  utterly  ruined  were  he  not  kept  in 
check.  Last  year  he  added  the  white  Iceland 
poppy  and  Spiraa  filipen dula  to  his  bill  of  fare, 
and  to-day  I  find  him  attacking  the  colchicum 
lilies.  One  can  not  gather  a  bucketful  and  toss 
them  into  one's  neighbor's  garden,  for  they  would 
only  fly  back  again.  My  neighbor,  who  lets  his 
chickweed  and  dandelions  go  to  seed,  is,  I  think, 
the  main  cause  of  their  increasing  numbers,  for 
he  never  lifts  a  finger  to  destroy  them. 

Siberia  contributes  one  of  the  smallest  and 
earliest  of  the  lily  family  in  L.  tenuifolium,  pret- 
tier as  a  cut-flower  than  when  growing  out  of 
doors,  where  its  many  wide-branched  blooms 
and  sparse  leafage  on  slender  stalks  give  it  a  top- 
heavy  appearance.  Its  small  vermilion,  wax- 


172  Oc  (KarTien's  -Storr. 

like,  and  strongly-scented  flowers  are  distinct 
among  the  turbans. 

L.  pulchellum,  another  small  red  species, 
from  Siberia,  blossoms  with  tenuifolium.  Both 
of  these  do  best  in  sandy  soil,  as  does  also  the 
common  wild  orange-red  lily  (L.  Philadelphi- 
cum),  a  most  beautiful  early  species.  You  have 
seen  its  single  and  sometimes  two  and  three  flow- 
ered blossoms  lighting  the  June  meadows  and 
sandy  hill-sides.  Its  blossoms  seldom  number 
more  than  three.  A  gigantic  specimen  I  once 
found  with  eight  blossoms,  and  which  I  carefully 
transplanted  with  a  large  ball,  divided  itself  into 
four  stalks  the  following  season. 

I  do  not  wonder  that  the  Madonna  lily  (L. 
candidum)  has  been  claimed  as  an  emblem  by 
nearly  a  hundred  saints.  It  seems  to  have  a 
special  charm  of  its  own,  so  chaste  it  is,  so  in- 
violable in  its  purity.  The  roses  and  the  big 
blue  larkspurs  come  into  bloom  just  in  time  to 
set  it  off,  and  together,  perhaps,  form  the  most 
beautiful  summer  pageant  of  the  garden.  The 
Madonna  lily  is  one  of  the  most  gracious  of  its 
graceful  tribe,  being  not  only  unusually  hardy, 
but  quick  to  increase,  and  thriving  in  almost  any 
soil  and  position.  Though  its  white  print  is 
seen  everywhere,  it  is  a  flower  that  is  never 
common.  One  of  the  easiest  to  grow,  it  is  no 


?Ftoo  (Kartien  JFaborfte0.  173 


exception  to  the  rest  of  the  genus  in  its  dis- 
like to  being  disturbed.  The  right  way  is  to 
think  twice  before  placing  any  plant  or  tree,  so 
that,  when  once  planted,  it  will  not  be  necessary 
to  interfere  with  it.  Where  transplanting  is, 
necessary,  the  lily  should  be  moved  when  its 
bulb  is  at  rest — a  period  easily  determined  by 
the  dying  down  of  the  foliage  and  stalk.  Many 
lilies  require  several  years  to  become  established, 
and,  so  long  as  they  remain  healthy  and  flower 
well,  they  should  not  be  disturbed.  What  ap- 
plies to  the  daffodil  does  not  hold  good  with  the 
lily ;  and  I  think  the  rule  laid  down  by  many, 
that  the  latter  is  benefited  by  transplanting  and 
dividing  every  two  or  three  years,  is  wrong. 
None  of  the  varieties  of  the  white  lily  can  com- 
pare with  the  type ;  the  double  form  is  as  great 
a  failure  as  the  rose-colored  lily  of  the  valley. 

The  past  year  the  white  lilies  were  not  as  fine 
as  usual,  something  in  the  late  spring,  or  else  the 
previous  dry  autumn,  affecting  them.  The  stalks 
were  less  strong,  and  the  leaves  often  turned  yel- 
low before  the  appearance  of  the  flowers. 

The  lily  should  not  have  its  stalk  cut  down 
after  blossoming,  until  the  leaves  have  fallen  off, 
and  the  stalk  becomes  yellow  and  shriveled.  It 
is  always  a  temptation  to  cut  down  the  withered 
stems,  which  are  unsightly.  But  to  remove  the 


174  We  ©farfcen's  .Story. 

green  stems  means  to  make  the  bulb  go  to  rest 
prematurely,  the  result  being  that  the  next  sea- 
son the  flower-stems  come  up  weaker  and  pro- 
duce smaller  flowers.  There  is  no  objection  to 
cutting  the  stems  down  gradually  from  the  top 
as  they  become  dry ;  this  does  not  weaken  the 
bulbs,  and  at  the  same  time  avoids  the  appear- 
ance of  untidiness. 

We  would  naturally  expect  much  of  the  scar- 
let martagon  or  scarlet  Turk's-cap  (L.  chalcedo- 
ntcum),  the  true  "  lily  of  the  field."  Indeed,  it  is 
never  disappointing,  except  when  it  is  disturbed, 
the  species  being  extremely  sensitive  to  removal, 
and  never  being  good  for  several  years  after 
transplanting.  It  is  one  of  the  grand  things  in 
red  ;  an  old  clump  of  it,  in  fiery  scarlet  flower,  is 
a  sight  for  a  cardinal  to  dream  of  and  a  hum- 
ming-bird to  admire.  Its  cultural  requirements 
are  as  simple  as  those  of  the  Madonna  lily,  and 
the  beautiful  cross  between  these  two,  the  Nan- 
keen lily  (L.  excelsum,  L.  testaceum,  L.  Isabellt- 
nuni).  No  garden  should  be  without  this  fine 
hybrid  to  accompany  the  white  lily.  It  inherits 
the  stateliness  and  the  combined  perfume  of 
both  parents,  with  a  soft  apricot  or  buff-salmon 
color  unique  among  its  family. 

An  overestimated  lily,  I  think,  is  the  yellow 
L.  Hansom.  It  is  to  the  Japanese  species  what 


Ctoo  CKartoen  ifaborftes.  175 

the  panther  lily  (L.  pardelinutri)  is  to  the  North 
American  kinds — there  are  many  finer  to  choose 
from.  But  both  are  easy  to  grow,  and  the  grand 
whorls  of  Hansom  certainly  are  not  to  be  de- 
spised. Its  small  turban  is  of  a  distinct  yellow, 
with  a  peculiar  Oriental  odor — you  would  know 
it  came  from  Japan  with  your  eyes  shut.  I 
should,  doubtless,  admire  it  more  if  I  could  grow 
it  larger.  I  place  it  above  pardeltnum,  which 
passes  by  quickly,  and  has  a  loose  sort  of  flower 
on  limp  stalks  that  always  require  support ; 
Montgomery  would  never  have  grown  the  latter 
in  his  lily  garden.  The  Californian  L.  Wash- 
ingtonianum  is,  I  think,  also  overestimated — 
difficult  to  grow,  and  very  fleeting.  L.  Hum- 
boldtti,  L.  rubescens,  and  L.  Parryi  are  finer. 
All  the  Californian  species,  except  pardelimim, 
are  more  or  less  difficult  to  manage ;  they  often 
remain  in  the  ground  a  long  time  before  appear- 
ing. These  do  better  in  some  portions  of  Eng- 
land, where  they  are  consigned  by  the  thousands, 
to  be  sold  at  auction.  No  little  confusion  has  ex- 
isted concerning  the  Californian  species.  There 
are  differences  in  plants  which  florists  readily 
recognize,  but  botanists  will  not.  Thus  L,  ru- 
bescens,  one  of  the  handsomest  of  the  species, 
was  formerly  classed  with  L.  Washtngtonianum, 
a  distinct  species  in  almost  every  particular. 


176  Cfte  (Sateen's  <&tori>. 

Recently  a  yellow  form  of  pardelinum  has  been 
discovered,  together  with  another  species,  which 
the  discoverer,  Mr.  F.  A.  Miller,  of  San  Francis- 
co, informs  me  he  has  designated  as  L.  pardeli- 
num Alpinum.  This,  he  states,  "  grows  on  dry 
ground,  and  in  general  characteristics  is  not  un- 
like L.parvunt,  which,  however,  only  grows  on 
very  wet  ground,  or  along  water- courses.  The 
flower  is  small,  but  vivid  and  rich  in  color ;  near- 
ly half  of  the  flower,  which  appears  horizontally, 
is  scarlet.  I  found  it  at  an  elevation  of  eleven 
thousand  feet,  higher  than  the  altitude  where 
any  lilies  grow  usually." 

Where  it  can  be  well  grown,  L.  speciosum, 
with  its  numerous  varieties,  is  unquestionably 
one  of  the  finest  of  the  genus.  The  Massachu- 
setts climate,  which  produced  the  beautiful  va- 
riety Melpomene,  suits  it ;  but  it  is  usually  seen 
at  its  best  under  glass.  L.  Brownit,  another 
Japanese  species,  is  far  more  rare,  but  scarcely 
as  handsome  as  the  common  L.  longtflorum  and 
its  varieties.  Contrary  to  general  opinion,  I  have 
found  the  former  extremely  slow  to  recover  after 
lifting.  L.  Harrisit,  the  Bermuda  lily,  is  best 
suited  to  the  greenhouse,  on  account  of  its  tend- 
ency to  start  so  early,  and  is  not  to  be  compared 
with  the  Japanese  long-trumpeter  for  out-of-door 
culture.  An  easily-grown  lily  is  the  European 


'3l^r 

TVJEBBITY 


(Sartien  iFaborftes. 


Turk's-cap  (L.  martagori),  and  its  fine  varieties, 
album  and  dalmaticum  ;  the  latter  is  said  to  re- 
vert to  the  type  after  a  few  years'  cultivation. 
There  are  scores  of  varieties  to  choose  from  in 
the  Japanese  species  Thunbergtanum  or  elegans, 
nearly  all  of  which  are  dwarf  in  habit,  and  vary 
in  color  from  pale  apricot,  orange,  and  orange- 
red,  to  blood  and  deep  red.  These  are  among 
the  easiest  of  the  genus  to  grow,  and  do  not  like 
shade.  L.  bulbtferum,  somewhat  like  Thunber- 
gianum,  with  orange-crimson  flowers,  is  also  one 
of  the  least  fastidious  species  ;  the  variety  umbel- 
latum  is  a  stronger  grower  than  the  type.  Both 
of  these  are  valuable  early  species  where  a  mass 
of  red  in  lilies  is  desired  in  open  sun. 

Of  the  many  species  we  owe  to  Japan,  none 
can  compare  with  the  great  golden-banded  lily 
(L.  auratum)  and  its  varieties  ;  if,  in  reality,  it  is 
not  the  finest  of  its  tribe.  But  it  is  a  coquette  at 
heart,  and,  unless  wooed  earnestly  and  persistent- 
ly, in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  it  will 
only  smile  bewitchingly  the  first  year,  to  jilt  you 
the  next.  Of  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
bulbs  imported  annually  from  Japan  by  Europe 
and  America,  very  few  remain  after  the  second 
and  third  year.  This  is  not  owing  to  its  tender- 
ness, for  it  is  among  the  hardiest  of  the  genus. 
Neither  is  it  a  mere  question  of  climate  and  cult- 


178  ?Tt)e  ©fartoen's 


ure.  Climate  and  culture  have  much  to  do  with 
it,  but  the  main  reason  of  its  failure  is  beyond 
this.  Investigation  has  only  recently  brought  to 
light  the  chief  cause  of  its  disappointment.  In 
its  own  home  it  is  infested  by  a  mite,  which, 
however,  does  not  seem  to  cause  trouble  until  it 
leaves  its  native  country.  The  enfeeblement  in- 
cident to  the  removal  of  the  bulb,  together  with 
the  difference  of  soil  and  climate,  cause  its  de- 
terioration. Some  unusually  strong  round  bulbs, 
which  may  not  be  so  much  affected,  if  placed 
amid  congenial  surroundings,  are  able  to  resist 
this  tendency  ;  and  it  is  only  by  selecting  a  quan- 
tity of  the  best  bulbs  to  start  with,  and  retaining 
the  most  robust  of  these  after  the  first  year's 
flowering,  that  we  may  hope  to  establish  this 
lily  ;  that  is,  unless  it  can  be  grown  more  suc- 
cessfully from  scales  or  seed,  a  process  seldom 
tried  in  this  country,  where  we  have  not  the 
patience  to  wait.  Of  fifty  bulbs,  perhaps  only 
one  third,  more  frequently  a  quarter  or  less,  re- 
main after  the  second  year,  even  when  grown 
under  the  most  advantageous  circumstances. 
This  is  what  the  term  "home-grown  Lilium 
auratum  "  means,  or  is  supposed  to  mean  ; 
for  the  loss  is  always  so  great  that  few  care 
to  deal  in  auratum  bulbs,  except  as  directly 
imported. 


fftoo  ©fatten  JFaborftea.  179 

Notwithstanding  this,  so  desirable  is  the 
golden-banded  lily,  that  it  is  worth  any  amount 
of  trouble  to  establish.  Peat,  with  the  addition 
of  sharp  sand,  seems  to  meet  its  cultural  require- 
ments best,  although  it  does  well  among  Onoclea 
ferns,  in  soil  largely  composed  of  black  "  muck  " 
or  decayed  wood.  A  sufficiency  of  water  it 
must  have,  and  abundance  of  shade  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  success.  The  midday  sun  is  fatal  to 
it.  A  flickering  shade,  I  should  say,  is  best  for 
this  and  most  lilies.  It  should  also  be  placed 
where  it  will  not  be  subject  to  high  winds.  The 
auratum  is  one  of  the  most  protracted  of  the 
genus  in  its  flowering  period,  and  scarcely  two 
of  a  number  of  bulbs  planted  at  the  same  time 
come  into  flower  simultaneously.  There  are 
numerous  varieties  of  this  species,  all  of  which 
are  beautiful ;  the  more  pronounced  the  terra- 
cotta spots  and  vivid  the  color  of  the  ray  or  cen- 
tral band,  the  finer  the  flower. 

I  regard  a  well -grown  Lilium  auratum, 
with  a  strong  stalk  rising  to  a  height  of  five  or 
six  feet,  supporting  its  dozen  or  more  deliciously- 
scented  blooms,  as  the  grandest  of  all  hardy 
flowers.  It  is  worth  planting  a  hundred  bulbs 
to  establish  one  such  embodiment  of  floral 
beauty.  When  I  stand  in  its  lovely  presence  I 
am  repaid  for  any  trouble ;  and  I  freely  forgive 


180  ffljc  Barton's 


the  Japanese  all  the  misery  they  have  inflicted 
upon  Kiota  and  Awata.  It  is  scarcely  astonish- 
ing that  a  country  which  can  produce  such  a 
flower  should  produce  artisans  to  whom  nothing 
is  impossible.  It  ought  to  inspire  a  transcend- 
ental literature.  Under  date  of  August  29, 
1885,  F.  Bridger,  Penshurst  Place,  Kent,  wrote 
to  the  London  "  Garden  "  :  "  We  have  in  the 
open  ground  here  a  Ltlium  auratum  with  forty 
flowers  upon  it  at  the  present  time,  and  over  a 
hundred  more  still  to  open  ;  the  plant  has  six 
stems  seven  feet  high."  The  proprietor  should 
go  down  upon  his  knees  to  such  a  gardener,  and 
endow  him  with  an  annuity  for  life  ! 

Remarkable  among  lilies,  and  differing  en- 
tirely from  the  type,  is  the  Himalayan  species,  L. 
gtganteum,  termed  the  "  king  of  lilies."  It  is,  I 
believe,  generally  considered  tender  with  us,  and 
difficult  to  manage.  Two  years  ago  I  experi- 
mented with  three  of  a  dozen  small  bulbs,  plant- 
ing them  out  on  the  2oth  of  November,  in  rich 
loam  and  leaf-mold.  These  wintered  perfectly, 
and  the  remainder,  which  were  placed  in  a  cool 
house,  have  since  withstood  the  winter  equally 
well,  and  are  now  vigorous  plants,  with  immense 
Caladtum-\\V.t  leaves,  growing  in  partial  shade  ; 
these  have  not  yet  flowered.  This  species,  in 
Europe,  attains  a  height  of  ten  feet,  and  bears 


?Ttoo  (Sartren  JFaborftes.  181 

huge  trumpet-shaped,  nodding  white  flowers,  in- 
teriorly stained  with  purple,  and  of  powerful 
fragrance.  It  is  a  strong  rooter,  and,  as  it  push- 
es up  very  early,  it  should  be  planted  rather 
deeply,  and  protected  with  fine  ashes  from  spring 
frosts.  It  is  said  to  require  years  before  it  sends 
up  its  flower-stalk,  and  the  longer  it  is  in  coming 
into  flower  the  finer  it  is  said  to  be. 

The  tiger-lily  (L.  tigrinum),  an  occupant  of 
most  gardens,  is  never  common  when  well 
grown.  Its  odd  Chinese  color  and  pronounced 
spots  must  be  seen  in  mass  to  do  it  justice ;  the 
old  -  fashioned  country  garden  invariably  does 
well  by  it,  because  it  is  left  undisturbed.  Z,. 
tigrinum  splendens  is  termed  the  most  beauti- 
ful, though  the  double  variety  is  almost  equally 
fine.  All  of  the  tigers  are  among  the  very  easy 
lilies  to  grow. 

A  single  specimen  of  a  beautiful  native  lily  of 
the  Canadense  section  was  discovered  in  1840  by 
Dr.  Asa  Gray,  on  the  Alleghanies,  North  Caro- 
lina, and  named  in  his  honor  L.  Grayi.  This 
is  described  as  having  flowers  of  dark-red  orange, 
uniformly  dotted  within  with  rather  small  purple 
spots.  Although  since  found  in  the  same  habi- 
tat, the  species  is  as  yet  extremely  rare. 

A  lily  distinctly  American  is  the  wild  Turk's- 
cap  (L.  superbum),  an  inhabitant  of  meadows 


1 82  ?Tt)e  (Sarticn's  .Storn. 

and  low  grounds,  the  tallest  and  most  numerous 
flowered  of  our  native  lilies.  So  variable  is  this 
in  its  size,  shape,  color,  markings,  and  the  num- 
ber of  its  flowers,  that  it  is  difficult  to  specify  it 
distinctly.  It  is  a  question,  moreover,  just  when 
it  becomes  concurrent  with  L.  Canadense  ru- 
brum,  as  would  not  unfrequently  seem  to  be  the 
case.  The  most  common  forms  of  the  species 
bear  dingy  red  or  yellowish-red  flowers,  and  vary 
greatly  in  the  robustness  of  the  plants.  L.  super- 
bum,  as  usually  sent  out,  is  anything  but  the 
superb  lily  it  is  in  certain  favored  localities,  and 
none  who  have  only  seen  its  more  common  forms 
have  any  conception  of  its  stately  beauty  in  its 
rarer  and  perfected  state.  Along  the  Old  Colony 
Railway,  between  Newport  and  Boston,  and  on 
the  Shore  Line  between  New  London  and  Boston, 
the  species  is  seen  at  its  best.  For  miles  it  fol- 
lows one  along  the  railway,  steeping  whole 
meadows  in  scarlet,  the  color  of  the  flowers 
varying  from  the  most  intense  bright  crimson 
to  dingy  yellowish-red.  There  in  the  salt  air  it 
revels  even  on  dry,  poor  soil,  bearing  from  three 
to  fifteen  or  more  commonly  three  to  seven  flow- 
ers on  a  head. 

In  its  cultivated  state,  where  well  grown,  the 
large  form  is  still  more  free  flowering,  the  bulbs 
throwing  up  from  a  dozen  to  three  dozen  blooms 


JFtoo  ©fartren  ifaborftes.  183 

on  stems  eight  to  nine  feet  high.  I  have  never 
seen  it  as  brilliant  under  cultivation  as  it  occurs 
wild  in  the  localities  referred  to.  Neither  have  I 
ever  seen  the  lemon-yellow  Canadense  as  vividly 
colored  or  as  tall  as  it  occurs  near  New  London, 
Conn.  Fine  color  and  tall  stalks  with  L.  super- 
bum  under  cultivation,  however,  will  largely  de- 
pend upon  good  selection  made  in  the  native 
habitat.  This  year  a  disease  seems  to  have  af- 
fected L.  super  bum  under  cultivation  in  some 
places,  causing  the  stems  to  shrivel  and  the 
leaves  to  rot  off. 

Of  the  graceful  Turk's-caps  or  turbans  there 
are  none,  I  think,  unless  I  except  the  rare  form 
of  L.  superbum,  equal  to  the  red  Canadense,  our 
own  wild  wood-lily.  I  know  of  no  lily  more 
graceful  or  stately.  It  is  as  distinctly  American 
as  the  cardinal- flower  or  the  pink  lady's-slipper. 
Something  it  possesses  of  the  wildness,  the  sup- 
pleness, and  the  charm  of  cool  leafy  places — in 
its  tall,  polished  wand,  its  fluttering  whorls,  and 
the  pure  whiteness  of  its  rhizome.  It  always 
looks  self-possessed,  bending  but  never  breaking 
before  the  rain  and  storm.  Then  its  life  and  fire 
when  rising  from  the  foil  of  light-green  Onocleas. 
I  find  it  growing  in  low  woods  where  water  has 
lodged  in  spring,  lifting  its  lithe  stem  along 
shaded  ditches  and  hedges,  and  rising  in  flexile 


184  Ctje  Garten's  Sstorij. 

grace  amid  the  chosen  haunts  of  the  sensitive 
fern.  Owing  to  its  increased  vigor  the  red  form 
of  Canadense  is  preferable  to  the  yellow,  though 
the  latter  is  exquisitely  beautiful  in  the  color  and 
poise  of  its  flower.  Certainly  the  yellow  form  of 
L.  Canadense  far  surpasses  any  yellow  form  of 
L.  superbum,  the  latter  invariably  having  a 
washy  appearance. 

L.  Canadense  rubrum  is  much  earlier  to 
blossom  than  superbum.  The  distinction  of 
shape  of  flower,  however — superbum  being  quite 
recurved  in  the  Turk's-cap  style — is,  perhaps, 
more  obvious  than  any  other  characteristic.  I 
find  the  red  L.  Canadense.  extremely  protean, 
plants  of  similar  size  occurring  side  by  side  with 
long,  rather  narrow  leaves,  and  again  with  short 
and  very  wide  leaves ;  the  number  of  leaves  on  a 
whorl  also  being  very  variable,  while  in  some 
plants  the  flowers  are  much  more  nodding  than 
in  others.  In  low,  damp  woods,  near  by  where  it 
is  extremely  abundant  and  attains  a  very  large 
size,  I  have  also  noticed  much  variation  in  the 
shades  and  spots.  The  largest  and  most  dis- 
tinctly marked  flowers  I  have  seen  occurred  in 
strong  plants  having  what  might  be  termed  vari- 
egated foliage,  the  leaves  in  these  instances  be- 
ing yellowish  in  tone,  marked  with  dark-green 
veins  and  blotches.  Some  have  the  back  of  the 


2Ttoo  ©fartoen  ifaborftes.  185 

petals  marked  with  pale-yellow  bands  on  the 
edges.  This  is  one  of  the  most  striking  and  ex- 
ceptional forms,  though  the  numerous  flowers 
are  smaller.  Some  have  flowers  with  the  under 
side  of  the  petals  stained  a  deep  vermilion  ;  some 
have  large  and  some  small  dots;  others  occur 
with  flowers  much  larger  than  the  type  ;  and 
the  form  I  have  specified  as  occurring  with  vari- 
egated foliage  has  the  handsomest  flowers  of  all, 
of  medium  size,  with  the  back  of  the  petals  col- 
ored a  glowing  vermilion-scarlet.  The  large- 
flowered  form  has  the  petals  the  least  spotted  of 
all,  no  dots  appearing  on  the  terminal  half  of  the 
petals.  The  latter  is  one  of  the  most  robust 
of  the  section.  Another  rare  form  occurs  with 
the  outside  of  the  petals  blotched  and  spotted 
with  yellow,  and  I  have  met  with  still  another 
form,  intermediate  between  rubrum  a.n&flavum. 
All  these,  with  the  exception  of  the  variegated 
form,  I  have  found  growing  in  the  same  woods 
in  flickering  shade,  and  all  have  preserved  their 
distinguishing  characteristics  under  cultivation. 
The  yellow  Canadense,  while  a  less  robust 
grower,  withstands  the  sun  better  than  the  red 
variety.  The  latter  is  worthless  grown  in  open 
sun.  Placed  among  any  of  our  native  ferns  ex- 
cept the  big  ostrich,  which  starts  so  early  in 
growth  as  to  choke  or  stunt  the  lilies,  they 

13 


1 86  (Ttir  (T.artJrn's    *t.<n; 

thrive  luxuriantly,  and  are  thus  probably  seen  to 
the  best  advantage. 

Mr.  Peter  Henderson  has  justly  remarked 
that  the  lily  has  no  poor  relations,  and  that  in  a 
general  collection  of  the  species  all  that  can  be 
imagined  desirable  and  perfect  in  floral  forms 
will  be  realized.  Indeed,  it  is  beautiful  in  all  its 
very  numerous  forms ;  and  when  we  consider  that 
except  one  or  two  species  it  is  a  flower  with  no  in- 
sect pests,  the  lily  may  well  be  regarded  as  one  of 
the  greatest  treasures  of  the  hardy  flower-garden. 

The  roses  seem  more  beautiful  than  ever 
this  year,  a  characteristic  of  this  favorite  flower ; 
it  is  always  more  beautiful.  Said  a  blush  rose 
to  me :  I  am  the  type  of  youth  and  voluptuous- 
ness ;  I  am  red  with  the  flush  of  health ;  with 
my  odor,  with  my  loveliness,  all  are  intoxicated ; 
I  nestle  in  the  bosom  of  beauty  and  I  am  the 
symbol  of  love ;  my  beauty  speaks  for  me.  Do  I 
need  to  trace  my  lineage  ?  "  I  came  of  nectar 
spilled  from  heaven.  Love,  who  bore  the  celes- 
tial vintage,  tripped  a  wing  and  overset  the  vase ; 
and  the  nectar,  spilling  on  the  valleys  of  the  earth, 
bubbled  up  in  roses." 

There  is  so  much  to  say  about  the  rose  that 
it  were  more  satisfactory  to  recommend  the 
reader  to  peruse  the  hundreds  of  monographs  it 
has  inspired  than  to  attempt  to  allude  to  it  within 


Ctoo  (T.avtini  jfaborftes.  187 

the  confines  of  a  few  pages.  The  only  way  to 
do  it  justice  is  to  begin  at  the  beginning  and 
treat  it  in  all  its  phases  of  origin,  history,  culture, 
form,  color,  and  fragrance.  I  imagine  it  would 
be  delightful  to  study  roses  for  a  decade  and 
then  write  a  book.  Even  the  subject  of  suitable 
manures  would  lose  its  taint  if  considered  with 
reference  to  the  rose.  The  species  alone  number 
upward  of  a  hundred;  the  varieties  with  their 
briefest  possible  descriptions  would  fill  a  ponder- 
ous folio.  Of  teas  alone  there  are  several  thou- 
sands ;  of  hybrid  perpetuals  or  remontants  there 
is  almost  as  great  a  multitude  as  the  daffodils 
Wordsworth  saw  dancing  by  the  shore  of  Ulls- 
water.  An  astronomer  it  would  require  to 
count  them ;  a  Symonds  to  depict  their  colors. 
The  rose,  like  the  lily,  will  not  grow  itself,  not- 
withstanding its  hardy  species  are  far  less  fas- 
tidious with  regard  to  soil  and  climate.  As  the 
price  of  its  beauty  it  requires  care,  if  not  "  eter- 
nal vigilance."  It  is  like  a  fascinating  woman 
whom  every  one  admires  and  who  graciously  sub- 
mits to  the  attentions  of  all,  to  her  own  annoy- 
ance and  discomfort.  Thus,  Madame  de  Coigny, 
becoming  tired  of  the  attentions  bestowed  upon 
her,  one  day  had  a  signet  engraved  of  a  rose 
besieged  by  insects,  with  the  motto — 
This  it  is  to  be  a  Rose. 


1 88  Ct)e  CSarUen's  Sbtorj. 

The  first  leaves  have  scarcely  appeared  ere 
they  are  beset  by  the  thrip  or  rose-hopper,  al- 
most immediately  succeeded  by  the  green  fly, 
leaf-roller,  rose-chafer,  and  rose-slug.  Were 
the  sparrow  of  any  earthly  use,  he  would  not 
leave  these  to  hellebore,  whale-oil  soap,  and 
Paris  green.  Nearly  any  one  of  these  pests,  if 
left  to  itself,  soon  ruins  the  foliage  or  flow- 
ers. Undoubtedly  the  easiest  way  to  cultivate 
roses  is  to  buy  them ;  the  next  easiest  way  is  to 
have  a  posse  of  gardeners  whose  sole  purpose 
shall  be  to  stand  over  them  continually  with 
wisp,  bellows,  and  syringe.  Indeed,  it  is  far 
easier  to  study  the  lily  and  cajole  its  caprices 
than  to  escape  the  omnipresent  thorn  of  the  rose. 
There  are  roses  without  thorns  as  there  is  a  bee 
without  a  sting ;  but  a  thornless  rose  nearly  al- 
ways means  a  rose  without  fragrance.  But 
what  loveliness  it  gives  us  to  make  up  for  its 
poutings — a  dimple  and  a  smile  on  every  flower  ! 

Who  shall  decide  which  rose  is  the  type  of 
beauty  or  say  which  is  the  sweetest  ?  Can  there 
be  anything  more  beautiful  than  a  Marechal 
Niel  ?  Is  any  rose  finer  than  the  combination  of 
buff  and  peach-blow  and  salmon  in  the  fragrant 
folds  of  a  Gloire  de  Dijon  ?  Is  Louis  Van  Houtte 
or  Marie  Rady  the  sweeter  flower,  and  are  either 
of  these  as  sweet  as  La  France  or  Souvenir  de  la 


<£artren  JFaborftes.  189 


Malmaison  ?  And  are  these  in  turn  as  delicious 
as  the  little  violet-scented  white  Banksia  or  the 
pungent  breath  of  the  white-  clustered  multiflora? 
Who  shall  choose  between  Marshall  P.  Wilder, 
Marie  Beaumann,  and  Alfred  Colomb?  And 
which  is  the  more  bewitching,  Madame  Gabriel 
Luizet  in  her  dress  of  pink  Chambray,  or  Mabel 
Morrison  in  her  cool  white  lawn?  Which  do 
you  prefer,  the  old-fashioned  climbers  smothered 
in  rosy  bloom,  or  the  mass  of  the  Persian's 
beaten  gold?  Can  you  decide  between  a  pink 
Bon  Silene  and  a  moss-rose  wet  with  dew? 
Would  you  leave  out  the  paeonia-flowered  Paul 
Neyron  for  Madame  the  Countess  of  Serenye? 
And  which  is  the  more  desirable  in  autumn,  the 
colored  hips  of  the  dog-rose  or  the  late-blossom- 
ing Marguerite  de  St.  Amande?  Then  the 
white  Rosa  rugosa,  the  sweet-brier,  the  little 
Pacquerettes,  the  Noisettes,  the  Ayrshires,  the 
Bourbons,  the  Chinas,  the  Boursaults,  the  dam- 
asks, the  Provence,  the  Scotch,  and  the  hosts  of 
hybrids. 

Which  is  my  favorite  in  the  hardy  rose-gar- 
den? I  have  tried  for  many  years  to  decide, 
and  if  pressed  hard  for  an  answer  I  think  I 
should  name  Marie  Rady,  although  not  a  few  of 
the  varieties  I  have  specified  and  some  I  have 
not  mentioned  approach  it  very  closely  in  the 


190  ?T!)e  Barton's  Storn. 

attributes  which  go  to  form  a  perfect  rose.  It 
is  an  ideal  rose  in  form,  color,  fragrance,  and 
foliage  when  well  grown,  perhaps  not  quite  as 
free  blooming  as  one  might  wish,  and  possibly 
more  satisfactory  as  a  budded  plant  than  when 
grown  on  its  own  roots.  I  know  of  no  rose 
more  rose-like  in  its  large,  full,  vermilion-crimson 
flower,  its  full,  delicious  perfume,  its  red-thorned 
shoots,  and  free,  lustrous  foliage. 

But  some  like  the  brunettes  and  some  the 
blondes.  Both  are  beautiful,  unless  it  be  the 
type  which  loses  its  color  with  the  first  hot  sun. 
Of  course,  there  are  many  species  which  are  not 
sufficiently  hardy  for  the  garden ;  but  there  still 
remain  enough  to  puzzle  any  one  to  choose  from. 
Some  one  has  said  that  roses  in  a  garden  are 
preferable  to  a  garden  of  roses,  the  latter  at  times 
affording  little  poetry  or  pleasure  compared  with 
a  few  roses  here  and  there  in  a  garden.  An  ad- 
mirable plan,  I  think,  is  to  plant  enough  of  good 
forms  and  colors  in  the  flower-borders ;  of  Per- 
sians in  the  shrubberies ;  of  climbers  on  the  walls 
and  pillars  and  trellises,  and  of  all  desirable 
hardy  kinds  in  the  kitchen-garden  to  cut  from  ; 
and  ever,  and  still  ever,  when  wet  with  morning 

dew — 

Gather  ye  rose-buds  while  ye  may, 
Young  June  is  still  a-flying. 


toarm-toeatljer 


Gods  grant  or  withhold  it,  your  ''yea"  and  your  "nay 
Are  immutable,  heedless  of  outcry  of  ours : 

But  life  is  worth  living,  and  here  we  would  stay 
For  a  house  full  of  books,  and  a  garden  of  flowers. 

ANDREW  LANG— BALLADE  OF  TRUE  WISDOM. 


VIII. 
WARM-WEATHER   WISDOM. 

HE  intense  heat  and  long-continued  dry 
weather  are  telling  upon  the  flowers, 
and,  at  present,  watering  is  the  most 
important  of  garden  tasks.  Vainly  have  the 
hair-bird  and  tree-toad  portended  rain.  It  is 
one  of  the  dry  spells  when  all  weather  signs  fail. 
The  garden-hose,  however  persistently  applied, 
only  partially  supplies  the  deficiency.  The  only 
thing  that  sounds  cool.is  the  plaint  of  the  mourn- 
ing-dove from  the  depths  of  the  thicket  and  the 
humming  of  bees  in  the  lime.  Even  the  swal- 
lows seem  to  fly  less  swiftly  and  the  butterflies 
pass  by  less  buoyantly.  It  is  the  sort  of  weather 
to  reread  the  "  Castle  of  Indolence  "  or  the  "  Mid- 
summer-Night's Dream."  Some  one  should 
make  out  a  list  of  books  for  reading  during  the 
reign  of  the  dog-star.  I  should  recommend,  be- 
sides numerous  volumes  I  have  previously  al- 


194 


luded  to,  such  books  as  these  as  a  sort  of  mental 
julep  to  sip  when  the  thermometer  is  in  the 
nineties  :  "  The  Unknown  River,"  "  The  Life  of 
the  Fields,"  "  I  go  a-Fishing,"  "  Rambles  among 
the  Hills,"  "  A  Year  among  the  Trees,"  "  Wai- 
den,"  "Wind-Voices,"  "A  History  of  Cham- 
pagne." There  is  no  end  of  cooling  literary 
beverages,  volumes  that  one  can  take  up  and 
skim  through,  Bulwer  to  the  contrary  notwith- 
standing, that  reading  without  purpose  is  saun- 
tering, not  exercise  —  a  winter  rather  than  a  sum- 
mer maxim. 

"  The  Haunted  House  "  is  cooling,  and  "  In 
Memoriam  "  is  nice  to  dive  in.  A  fresh  breeze 
blows  perpetually  from  the  "  Penseroso  "  ;  "  The 
Faerie  Queen  "  is  cool  reading,  and  so  is  "  The 
Plea  of  the  Midsummer  Fairies."  All  the  noted 
sonnets  on  sleep  are  cool.  Dobson  or  Lang 
ought  to  collect  them  in  book-form  between 
snow-white  covers  for  hot-weather  use.  I  re- 
member a  "  Phantom  Ship  "  (not  Hamilton's 
sonnet)  which  used  to  provoke  a  cold  shudder; 
but  it  is  so  long  since,  I  have  forgotten  the  au- 
thorship. There  is  also  a  "  Phantom  Fisher  " 
somewhere  in  British  verse  —  a  spectral  angler 
who  draws  ghostly  trout  from  haunted  shal- 
lows ;  and  Whittier,  besides  the  "  Dead  Ship 
of  Harpswell  "  —  "  the  ghost  of  what  was  once  a 


tftPfsTiom.  195 


ship  "  —  has  a  phantom  "  Farm-House,"  wraith 
of  a  dead  home.  But,  cooler  than  all  of  these, 
or  any  chill-provoking  verse  I  recollect,  is  Til- 
ton's  "Phantom  Ox,"  a  rendition  of  the  old 
Swabian  superstition  that  a  specter  in  the  form 
of  a  white  ox  glides  through  the  villages  and 
farms,  and  that  any  person  on  whom  he  breathes 
at  once  sickens  and  dies.  A  little  child,  fright- 
ened in  from  his  play,  tells  his  mother,  with 
blanched  cheek  and  trembling  lip,  how,  while 
wading  along  the  brook  in  quest  of  lilies,  a 
ghostly  ox  came  down  to  drink.  Through  his 
body  the  trees,  meadow-grass,  and  stones  showed 
as  through  a  crystal  glass  : 

He  wandered  round,  and  wherever  he  went 

He  stepped  with  so  light  a  tread, 
No  harebell  under  his  hoof  was  bent, 

No  violet  bowed  its  head. 

He  cast  no  shadow  upon  the  ground, 

No  image  upon  the  stream  ; 
His  lowing  was  fainter  than  any  sound 

That  ever  was  heard  in  a  dream. 

"  I  quivered  and  quaked  in  every  limb  ! 

I  knew  not  whither  to  flee  ; 
The  further  away  I  shrank  from  him, 
The  nearer  he  came  to  me. 

"  My  handful  of  lilies  he  sniffed  and  smelt  : 
His  breath  was  chilly  and  fresh  ; 


196  Ct)e  (Sartien's  Storp. 

His  horns,  as  they  touched  me  softly,  felt 
Like  icicles  to  my  flesh. 


I  rushed  through  the  water  across  the  brook, 

And  high  on  the  shelving  shore 
I  stopped  and  ventured  to  turn  and  look, 

In  hope  to  see  him  no  more. 

He  walked  in  my  wake  on  the  top  of  the  flood, 

And  followed  me  up  the  bank  ! 
A  blast  from  his  nostrils  froze  my  blood  ! 

My  spirit  within  me  sank  ! 

I  hid  in  the  reeds,  O  mother  dear, 

But  swift  as  a  whiff  of  air 
He  followed  me  there  !  he  followed  me  here  ! — 

He  follows  me  everywhere  ! 

Oh,  frown  at  him,  frighten  him,  drive  him  away  ! 

He's  coming  in  at  the  door  !  " 
And  down  fell  the  lad  in  a  swoon,  and  lay 

At  his  mother's  feet  on  the  floor. 

The  mother  looked  round  her,  dazed  and  dumb, 

She  saw  but  the  empty  air, 
Yet  knew  if  the  Phantom  Ox  had  come, 

The  shadow  of  Death  was  there. 

She  caught  the  pallid  boy  to  her  breast, 

And  pillowed  him  on  his  bed  ; 
The  white-eyed  moon  kept  watch  in  the  west ; 

The  beautiful  child  lay  dead  I  * 

*  Theodore  Tilton,  "  Swabian  Stories." 


197 


This  is  as  powerful  as  the  "  Erlking,"  and  it 
deserves  a  place  as  a  companion  -piece  to  Schu- 
bert's grand  rendition  of  the  German  lyric. 

Doctors  in  summer  should  prescribe  a  light 
literary  course,  tonic  rather  than  stimulating, 
not  only  to  the  weak-kneed,  but  the  robust  as 
well  —  on  the  same  principle  that  salads,  cooling 
vegetables,  and  dainty  entrees  are  craved  by  the 
stomach  during  the  tyranny  of  Sirius.  I  would  fur- 
ther proscribe  heating  music  :  Strauss's  waltzes, 
Von  Weber's  "  Invitation  to  the  Dance,"  Men- 
delssohn's "  Wedding  March,"  even  Beetho- 
ven's "  Adelaide,"  are  entirely  out  of  place  during 
the  heated  term.  Rather  let  us  listen  to  the 
solemn  chords  of  the  "  Dead  March  in  Saul," 
the  "Lacrymosa"  of  the  "Requiem,"  the  sob- 
bing of  the  "  Serenade." 

The  worst  of  existing  hot-weather  customs  is 
that  of  sending  bills  in  July.  A  law  should  be 
passed  rendering  this  an  indictable  offense,  if, 
withal,  creditors  should  not  be  compelled  to  de- 
duct a  liberal  percentage  from  all  accounts  fall- 
ing due  during  the  summer  solstice. 

Planchet's  motto,  "  Laissons  faire  et  nedisons 
rien,"  is  a  good  one  for  summer,  and  preferable 
to  D'Artagnan's,  "  Fatsons  bien  et  laissons  dire" 
Happy  in  July  is  the  man  on  the  sea-shore  ! 
How  refreshing  it  is  to  get  it  all  wet  on  one  side 


198  Ct)c  ©arfcen's  Ston;. 

of  you,  to  have  the  ocean-breeze  spraying  you 
all  the  way  in  from  the  horizon,  and  to  know  the 
privilege  of  bathing  with  your  lobster  before 
eating  him ! 

Under  the  lime-tree's  shadow  I  find  the  cool- 
est place  of  the  garden.  Is  it  due  altogether  to 
the  shade,  or  partially  to  the  myriad  insect  wings 
hovering  unceasingly  over  the  blooms  above  me  ? 
The  ferns  in  the  fernery  near  by  look  cool. 
Does  a  fern  ever  look  otherwise  than  cool,  and  is 
not  green  always  the  coolest  of  colors  ?  Cool 
are  the  lilac-scented  white  stars  of  the  partridge- 
vine,  almost  covering  its  deep  -  green  leaves. 
Cool,  too,  are  the  aspens  on  the  hill-side  which 
the  wind  visits  when  he  passes  by  all  other  trees. 
And  are  not  the  tall,  wild  lilies  cooled  by  their 
fluttering  whorls  ?  Despite  their  warm  color, 
somehow  their  red  Turk's -caps  do  not  look 
warm,  whereas  the  brick-red  of  the  meadow- 
lily  and  the  live  coals  of  the  scarlet  martagon  do 
in  comparison.  The  wild  lilies  are  now  mostly 
in  full  vermilion  bud  and  flower,  some  of  them 
rising  six  feet  high  amid  the  ferns.  The  sight 
of  their  great  candelabras  of  from  six  to  a  dozen 
flowers  more  than  atones  for  the  sting  of  the 
nettles  and  the  labor  of  extracting  their  brittle 
rhizomes  from  the  network  of  roots  amid  which 
they  were  entangled. 


CC?arin=£8?eatf)er  WPfsTioin.  199 

I  thought  the  bouquet  of  the  wild  grape  the 
most  delicious  breath  of  June ;  but  now  beneath 
the  lime-tree's  shade,  lulled  by  the  drowsy  mur- 
mur of  the  bees,  there  seems  no  summer  odor 
quite  so  fresh  and  uncloying  as  that  of  the  blos- 
soming lime.  No  wonder  the  honey  probed 
from  its  scented  cymes  in  the  Lithuanian  forests 
rivals  that  of  Mount  Hymettus  thyme  and  is 
considered  "the  finest  in  the  world." 

The  lime,  a  summer  home  of  murmurous  wings, 

sings  Tennyson.  It  is  a  very  Mecca  for  the 
bees,  and  rivals  its  near  neighbor,  the  Japanese 
honeysuckle,  in  tbe  numbers  of  insects  it  at- 
tracts. What  a  motley  throng  of  pilgrims  are 
drawn  to  its  nectar-laden  shrine !  Can  it  be  the 
sweetness  of  its  sap,  which  yields  a  sirup  simi- 
lar to  the  sugar-maple,  that  the  ants  and  borers 
seek  beneath  its  rind,  eventually  splitting  the 
bark  and  destroying  the  tree  ?  I  believe  this  is 
peculiar  to  the  European  lime  when  grown  in 
this  country.  De  Gelien  observes :  "  Many  are 
fond  of  bees ;  I  never  knew  any  one  who  loved 
them  indifferently — on  se  passtonne  pour  elles  !  " 
The  ancients  were  good  bee-masters,  in  proof  of 
which  it  may  be  cited  that  the  Greeks  had  three 
terms  at  least  for  the  different  qualities  of  propo- 
lis or  bee-gum — irpoiroXis,  Kappao-is,  and 


200  £1)e  ©farten's 


The  mead  or  metheglin  of  Shakespeare, 
the  drink  of  the  ancient  Britons  and  Norsemen, 
and  a  favorite  of  Queen  Bess,  is  very  plausible, 
if  not  true,  from  the  Greek,  pt  0v  aly\^(v.  Who- 
ever is  interested  in  bees  will  have  read  the 
fourth  Georgia,  and  pondered  the  rules  laid 
down  by  Butler.  A  better  bear  and  bee  story 
than  that  contained  in  "  Reynard  the  Fox  "  is 
related  by  Butler,  the  raconteur  being  Deme 
trius,  a  Muscovite  ambassador  sent  to  Rome  : 

"  A  neighbor  of  mine,"  said  he,  "  searching 
in  the  woods  for  honey,  slipped  down  into  a 
great  hollow  tree,  and  there  sunk  into  a  lake  of 
honey  up  to  the  breast,  where,  when  he  had 
stuck  fast  two  days,  calling  and  crying  out  in 
vain  for  help  (because  nobody  in  the  mean  while 
came  nigh  that  solitary  place)—  at  length,  when 
he  was  out  of  all  hope  of  life,  he  was  strangely 
delivered  by  means  of  a  great  bear,  which,  com- 
ing thither  about  the  same  business  that  he  did, 
and  smelling  the  honey  (stirred  with  his  striving), 
clambered  up  to  the  top  of  the  tree,  and  thence 
began  to  let  himself  down  backward  into  it. 
The  man,  bethinking  himself,  and  knowing  that 
the  worst  was  but  death  (which  in  that  place  he 
was  sure  of),  beclipt  the  bear  fast  with  both  his 
hands  about  the  loins,  and  withal  made  an  out- 
cry as  loud  as  he  could.  The  bear,  being  thus 


CSPfstiom.  201 


suddenly  affrighted  (what  with  the  handling  and 
what  with  the  noise),  made  up  again  with  all 
speed  possible  ;  the  man  held  and  the  bear 
pulled,  until  with  main  force  he  had  drawn  Dun 
out  of  the  mire  /  and  then,  being  let  go,  away 
he  trots,  more  afeared  than  hurt,  leaving  the 
smeared  swain  in  a  joyful  fear." 

Scarcely  less  amusing  is  Butler's  account  of 
honey  as  a  medicine,  or  his  directions  to  avoid 
being  stung  by  bees.  They  are  as  quaint  as 
some  of  Walton's  passages,  or  the  directions  by 
other  old  masters  of  the  line  for  capturing  a 
wary  tenant  of  the  stream.  Walton  has  con- 
tributed one  of  the  best  mots  that  has  appeared, 
on  the  frog  :  the  instruction  he  gives  Venator 
for  baiting  a  hook  with  a  live  batrachian,  which 
he  commands  him  to  use  "  as  if  he  loved  him, 
that  he  may  live  the  longer."  This  is  almost  as 
realistic  as  another  injunction  by  a  Michael  An- 
gelo  of  the  piscatory  art,  mentioned  by  Jesse, 
who  would  have  a  frog  attached  "  to  a  goose's 
foot,  in  order  to  see,  good  halynge,  whether  the 
goose  or  the  pyke  shall  have  the  better."  Still 
another  master  of  the  antique  school,  speaking 
of  the  best  bait  for  a  pike,  exclaims,  with  an  en- 
thusiasm for  his  art  not  to  be  met  with  in  these 
degenerate  days  :  "  But  the  yellow  frog,  of  all 
frogs,  brings  him  to  hand,  for  that's  his  dainty 
14 


202  £t)e  ©ar&en's 


and  select  diet,  wherein  Nature  has  placed  such 
magical  charms  that  all  his  powers  can  never 
resist  them,  if  fastened  on  the  hook  with  that 
exactness,  that  his  life  may  shine,  and  the  bait 
seem  undeprived  of  natural  motion."  When 
Theocritus  sang,  "  Sweet  is  the  life  of  frogs,"  he 
little  thought  of  the  pike,  and  the  use  the  classic 
Rana  would  be  put  to  by  the  modern  angler.  I 
think  these  old  angling  authors  should  be  read 
during  a  midsummer  drought  —  their  stories  are 
so  cool,  and  ripple  from  their  quills  so  sponta- 
neously. 

In  connection  with  bees  and  insects,  Jesse 
himself  provokes  a  smile  when  he  declares  that, 
together  with  wasps  and  bumble-bees,  the  hor- 
net "may  be  perfectly  managed.  .  .  .  Two  or 
three  whiffs  of  tobacco-smoke,  used  as  a  fumi- 
gator,  with  a  rose-nozzle  —  a  very  small  one,  that 
can  be  held  between  the  teeth,  is  large  enough  — 
will  instantly  tranquillize  all  such  insects,  and 
render  them  quite  harmless  as  to  their  sting  ; 
making  them  appear  as  if  they  had  forgotten 
they  possessed  such  formidable  weapons.  .  .  . 
The  sting  of  a  wasp  is  the  least  painful  of 
all,"  he  paradoxically  continues;  "the  sting  of 
a  hornet  I  have  never  felt,  nor  that  of  the 
largest  bumble-bee."  But  Jesse  is  not  often 
caught  napping,  despite  this  paradox  and  his 


203 


itinerant  fumigator.  It  is,  nevertheless,  to  be 
regretted  that  he  thus  deliberately  denied  himself 
the  pleasure  of  a  sensation  which  every  one 
ought  to  experience  at  least  once  in  a  lifetime. 

I  consider  Dr.  Talmage  a  better  authority 
than  Jesse  —  he  has  felt  the  hornet's  sting.  I  did 
not  know  him  as  an  entomologist  until  he 
preached  his  sermon  on  "  Stinging  Annoyances," 
from  the  text,  Deuteronomy  vii,  20,  "  The  Lord 
thy  God  will  send  the  hornet."  How  vividly  he 
describes  him  !  "  It  is  a  species  of  wasp,  swift 
in  its  motion  and  violent  in  its  sting..  Its  touch 
is  torture  to  man  and  beast.  We  have  all  seen 
the  cattle  run  bellowing  from  the  touch  of  its 
lancet.  In  boyhood  we  used  to  stand  cautiously 
looking  at  the  circular  nest  hung  from  the  tree- 
branch,  and,  while  we  were  looking  at  the  won- 
derful pasteboard  covering,  we  were  struck  with 
something  that  sent  us  shrieking  away  !  " 

The  hornet  is  used  as  a  simile  for  the  stinging 
vexations  of  life  which  beset  mankind  in  a  thou- 
sand forms.  If  Talmage  had  a  garden,  he  would 
see  a  swarm  of  hornets  in  the  rose-pests,  the 
dry  weather,  the  overplus  of  rain,  the  plant- 
staking,  the  weeds,  his  dandelioned  neighbors, 
the  east  wind,  before  which  all  plants  must  bow 
and  many  break.  Indeed,  he  refers  to  the  hor- 
net as  visiting  us  in  the  shape  of  friends  and  ac- 


204 


quaintances  who  are  always  saying  disagreeable 
things,  and  selects  him  as  the  type  of  the  insect- 
ile  annoyances  of  the  world  —  these  foes,  too 
small  to  shoot,  that  are  ever  puncturing  us  one 
way  or  another.  The  Colorado  beetle,  the  cur- 
culio,  the  locust,  the  Western  grasshopper,  the 
slug,  the  aphides,  the  currant-worm,  the  cod- 
ling-moth, are  all  hornets  in  disguise.  Perhaps 
the  parson's  solution,  that  the  hornet  is  sent  to 
"  culture  our  patience,"  is  the  most  rational  one 
yet  assigned  for  his  existence.  And  yet  the 
hornet  is  useful  in  another  way,  in  feeding  his 
young  with  the  soft  parts  of  other  insects,  in- 
cluding mosquitoes,  which  are  thus  largely  de- 
stroyed. 

The  honey-bee  is  the  most  frequent  among 
the  insect  visitors  to  the  blossoms  overhead, 
though  the  gnats  and  flies  are  also  numerously 
present,  banqueting  on  the  sweets.  I  see  vari- 
ous bumble-bees,  wasps,  and  hornets  as  well. 
the  former  being  the  most  numerous,  after  the 
honey-bees.  From  all  of  these  many  wings 
there  arises  a  soothing,  sonorous  murmur  of 
industry,  a  humming  as  from  a  vast  hive.  It  is 
one  of  the  sweetest  of  Nature's  voices  ;  less 
ethereal  but  not  unlike  the  aerial  music  which 
one  sometimes  pauses  to  hear  near  woods  and 
streams  at  this  season.  After  Beethoven  re- 


205 


turned  from  wandering  about  a  wood  near  Vien- 
na, where  he  listened  long  to  this  aerial  melody, 
he  composed  the  grand  Pastoral  Symphony. 
This  same  sound  puzzled  the  Selborne  rector, 
in  the  Money-dells,  over  a  century  ago.  Did 
this  not  also  suggest  the  sound  — 

That  sometimes  murmur'd  overhead, 
And  sometimes  underground, 

of  Hood's  "  Elm-Tree  "  —  Hood's  lines  being  de- 
scriptive of  the  characteristic  rising  and  falling 
of  this  woodland  voice  ? 

I  remember  hearing  it  repeatedly,  years  since, 
on  still,  hot  days,  in  a  small  copse  on  a  high  ele- 
vation ;  and  on  revisiting  the  locality,  recently, 
the  same  mysterious  music  followed  me  through 
the  wood.  Who  are  the  performers  of  this  gos- 
samer-spun sound,  this  invisible  harpsichord, 
this  elfin  music  of  the  air  ?  I  have  not  seen  a 
cause  ascribed  to  it  by  the  naturalists,  though,  it 
would  seem,  it  must  proceed  from  the  trembling 
wings  of  myriads  of  midges,  engaged  in  the 
dance  of  rivalry  and  love.  Swinton's  exhaustive 
volume  on  "Insect  Variety,"  which  treats  so 
fully  of  the  noises  and  dances  of  insects,  throws 
no  new  light  on  the  subject.  Insects,  and  the 
swallows  who  pursue  them,  soar  higher  as  the 
temperature  becomes  hotter  ;  and  it  is,  therefore, 


206  fft)e  ©farUen's  Storg. 

not  improbable  that  the  music  produced  by  the 
fanning  of  innumerable  wings  should  be  distin- 
guished when  the  performers  are  invisible. 

I  see  a  humming-bird  visiting  the  wild  lilies — 
he  can  not  resist  his  favorite  color — red.  In  a 
moment  he  darts  to  the  lime-tree,  but  only  for  a 
moment,  when  he  is  rifling  the  blooms  of  the 
Japanese  honeysuckle,  where  he  remains  sus- 
pended for  a  long  period,  often  joined  by  the 
female.  The  boom  of  his  swiftly-vibrating  wings 
is  audible  where  I  sit ;  it  seems  as  if  they  cooled 
the  air !  In  the  garden  he  skims  rapidly  over 
the  borders,  pausing  a  minute  over  the  blue 
larkspurs,  invariably  visiting  the  scarlet  lychnis 
and  Chalcedonicum  lilies;  never  neglecting  the 
red  monardas,  and  always  returning  to  the 
honeysuckles.  In  Prof.  Grant  Allen's  "  Pleased 
with  a  Feather  "  I  learn  that  the  metallic  luster 
of  his  topa^,  emerald,  and  ruby-tinted  throat  is 
due  to  the  fine  lines  of  the  feather  barbules; 
and  these  it  also  is  which  give  the  sable  sheen 
to  the  crow,  whom  I  admire  treading  his  favor- 
ite corn-field. 


illn  Jfnsect  Visitors. 


EIN  Blumenglockchen 

Vom  Boden  hervor 
War  friih  gesprosset 

In  lieblichem  Flor  ; 
Da  kam  ein  Bienchen 

Und  naschte  fein  : 
Die  miissen  wohl  beide 

Fiir  einander  sein. 

G5THE,  GLEICH  UND  GLEICH. 


IX. 


MY   INSECT   VISITORS. 

I  listen  to  the  humming  of  the  bum- 
ble-bees, I  think  the  term  "  bombina- 
tion,"  formerly  applied  to  the  droning 
of  the  large  Bombus,  should  be  retained.  It  is 
expressive,  and  carries  the  sound  shed  by  him  of 
the  black -velvet  coat  and  winnowing  wings. 
Sir  John  Lubbock's  experiments  with  regard  to 
the  color-sense  of  bees  are  interesting  as  de- 
tailed in  Chapter  X  in  the  volume  "  Ants,  Bees, 
and  Wasps."  Repeated  experiments  made  with 
honey  placed  on  papers  of  different  colors  not 
only  indicated  a  liking  for  blue  on  the  part  of 
bees,  but  showed  a  very  decided  preference  for 
this  over  all  other  colors.  Since  the  researches 
of  Lubbock,  Darwin,  Wallace,  and  Miiller,  it  is 
now  well  known  that  special  colors  in  flowers 
are  definitely  designed  to  attract  certain  special 
kinds  of  insects ;  as,  for  instance,  flowers  that 


2io  Clje  <*5artoen's  Storn. 

are  intended  for  fertilization  by  various  small 
flies  are  generally  white,  those  which  are  de- 
signed to  attract  beetles  are  usually  yellow,  and 
those  which  depend  upon  bees  and  butterflies 
are  almost  always  red,  lilac,  purple,  or  blue. 
Blue  flowers,  Prof.  Allen  observes,  are,  as  a  rule, 
specialized  for  fertilization  by  bees,  and  bees 
therefore  prefer  this  color,  while  conversely  the 
flowers  have  at  the  same  time  become  blue  be- 
cause that  was  the  color  which  the  bees  prefer. 
As  in  most  other  cases,  the  adaptation  must  have 
gone  on  part  passu  on  both  sides.  As  the  bee- 
flowers  grew  bluer,  the  bees  must  have  grown 
fonder  and  fonder  of  blue;  and  as  they  grew 
fonder  of  blue,  they  must  have  more  and  more 
constantly  preferred  the  bluest  flowers.* 

A  singular  preference  of  the  large  bumble- 
bee (Xylocarpa  Virginicd)  has  come  under  my 
notice  in  the  case  of  the  big  bee-larkspur  (Del- 
phinium  IVheelerii).  One  of  the  most  robust 
and  large-spiked  varieties,  I  should  not  recom- 
mend it  for  the  flower-border,  both  its  small 
flower  and  peculiar  color  being  less  pleasing 
than  numerous  other  varieties.  It  is  growing 
side  by  side  with  handsomer  and  equally  con- 
spicuous kinds,  and  I  should  have  discarded  it 

*  Cornhill  Magazine,  "  The  Colors  of  Flowers." 


Knsect  Vfsftors.  211 


long  since  were  it  not  for  the  fascination  it  has 
always  offered  to  the  bumble-bees.  The  color 
of  the  sepals  is  a  peculiar  sky-blue,  rayed  with 
pale  violet;  the  two  spur-petals  that  project 
above  the  two  yellow-bearded  petals  being  dark 
brown  and  showing  almost  black  against  the 
contrasting  color.  Between  these  the  bee  or- 
dinarily plunges  his  proboscis  into  the  nectary  ; 
but  the  large  black  bumble-bee  I  refer  to  rarely 
if  ever  does  this,  but  drives  his  spear  into  the 
spur  of  the  flower  from  the  outside,  close  to  the 
base  of  the  spur  where  the  honey  is  stored. 
Perhaps  this  is  done  to  save  time  and  labor,  or 
it  may  be  owing  to  his  short  proboscis.  He 
performs  his  work  rapidly  and  assiduously,  often 
remaining  until  stupefied  from  his  banquet. 
This  species  has  a  habit  of  hovering  over  the 
flowers  or  in  mid-air-  with  a  loud  bombination, 
while  chasing  his  mate,  and  seems  more  alert 
and  quickly  alarmed  than  others.  When  D. 
Wheelerii  is  in  blossom  little  attention  is  paid 
to  any  other  larkspur  or  any  other  flower  of 
the  garden,  though  numerous  varieties  of  the 
bee-larkspur  are  far  more  odoriferous.  The 
dark  centers  of  the  flowers  are,  of  course,  a 
conspicuous  guide  to  the  nectary  ;  but  similar 
centers  exist  in  many  other  varieties. 

So  marked  is  the  preference  shown  by  this 


212  £t>e  Cfarfcen's 


species  of  bee  for  the  variety  specified,  that  on 
placing  a  large  bunch  composed  of  four  other 
varieties  of  the  bee-larkspur  side  by  side  with 
Wheelerii  and  experimenting  with  nearly  a 
dozen  different  bees,  in  every  case  the  insects 
when  intercepted  by  the  foreign  flowers  merely 
alighted  on  them  for  an  instant,  and,  without  in- 
serting their  proboscides,  at  once  deserted  them 
for  the  variety  they  were  frequenting.  I  have 
been  unable  to  determine  whether  it  is  the  pe- 
culiar shade  or  some  special  odor  of  the  flower 
which  causes  it  to  be  sought  out  above  the 
others,  or  whether  it  is  on  account  of  its  being 
richer  in  honey.  Besides  this  species  I  find 
other  principal  visitors  in  Bombus  terrestris  and 
the  smaller  bumble-bee,  though  none  nearly  as 
numerous  as  the  large  black  species.  B.  ter- 
restris also  usually  obtains  his  sweets  from  the 
outside  of  the  nectary  ;  but  the  smaller  bumble- 
bee generally  draws  his  nectar  in  the  legitimate 
way.  An  occasional  honey-bee  searches  for 
sweets  through  the  aperture  which  has  been 
made  for  him  by  a  stronger  lancet  than  his  own. 
With  regard  to  the  perforation  of  the  corolla 
by  bees,  Darwin  states  that  those  plants,  the 
fertilization  of  which  actually  depends  on  insects 
entering  the  flowers,  will  fail  to  produce  seed 
when  their  nectar  is  stolen  from  .the  outside  ; 


insect  Vfsftors.  213 


and  even  with  those  species  which  are  capable 
of  fertilizing  themselves  without  any  aid  there 
can  be  no  cross-fertilization,  and  this,  as  we 
know,  is  a  serious  evil  in  most  cases.*  Aristotle 
noticed  that  all  kinds  of  bees  and  certain  other 
insects  usually  visit  the  flowers  of  the  same  spe- 
cies as  long  as  they  can  before  going  to  another 
species,  and  it  is  a  well-established  fact,  readily 
observable  in  any  flower-garden,  that  bumble- 
and  hive-bees  will  visit  plants  of  the  same  species 
of  opposite  colors  ;  but  I  am  puzzled  to  account 
for  the  marked  preference  in  the  instance  cited. 
The  plants  referred  to  are  situated  in  a  long  row, 
and  are  considerably  more  numerous  than  any 
other  variety.  Yet  this  fact  would  hardly  ac- 
count for  the  preference  I  have  noticed,  for  sev- 
eral seasons. 

I  think  we  do  not  accord  the  Germans  suffi- 
cient credit  for  what  they  have  accomplished  by 
their  painstaking  and  invaluable  investigations  in 
the  interest  of  plant  knowledge.  The  ear-split- 
ting terms  they  have  to  make  use  of  and  con- 
tend with  !  Just  think  of  having  to  know  that 
the  "  Sauerstoffabscheidung  "  of  green  plants  is 
an  "  Ernahrungsvorgang,"  and  that  the  latter  is 
closely  connected  with  the  "  Lichtvermittelter 

*  Self-  and  Cross-Fertilization,  chapter  xi. 


214  £*'  fifarfcen's  Sbtorj. 

Desoxydationsprocess " !  Is  it  any  wonder  it 
requires  a  "  scholar  of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge," to  translate  a  German  scientist  ? 

The  first  stimulus  to  more  exact  observation 
and  distinction  of  plants  was  necessity — to  know 
the  countless  medicinal  species  and  to  avoid  con- 
founding them  with  others.  The  old  herb- 
gatherers  were  the  first  botanists.  But  since 
Aristotle,  Theophrastus,  and  Dioscorides,  who 
were  herbalists  rather  than  botanists,  how  much 
is  the  present  system  and  knowledge  of  this  sci- 
ence indebted  to  the  Germans !  What  flowers 
have  not  been  analyzed  through  their  busy  mag- 
nifying •  glass  —  beginning  with  Brunfels  and 
Fuchs ;  continued  by  Erhart,  Hoffmann,  Kom- 
pler,  Rumph,  Hermann,  Schreber,  Sprengel, 
Gb'the,  Humboldt ;  and  followed  by  Meisner, 
Endlicher,  Meyen,  Link,  Schleiden,  Von  Mohl, 
Seubert,  Miiller,  and  others  ! 

To  all  who  would  look  beneath  the  surface 
and  grasp  the  real  purport  and  significance  of 
flowers,  Hermann  Miiller's  volume,  "  The  Fertili- 
zation of  Flowers,"  recently  translated  into  Eng- 
lish, will  be  found  of  signal  interest.  Christian 
Sprengel,  in  1787,  was  the  pioneer  to  discover 
these  fundamental  truths : 

i.  The  nectar  of  most  flowers  is  secreted 
for  the  sake  of  insects,  and  is  protected  from 


insect  TTfsftors.  215 


rain,  that  the  insects  may  get  it  pure  and  un- 
defiled. 

2.  The  colors  and  odors  of  flowers  are  de- 
signed to  attract  the  attention  of  insects. 

3.  Without   the   aid   of  insects   very   many 
flowers  are  incapable  of  fertilization,  and  there- 
fore the  secretion  of  honey  in  the  flower,  its  pro- 
tection, the  odor  of  the  flower,  and  the  coloring 
of  the  corolla,  are  Nature's  contrivances  to  cause 
its  fertilization  by  insects. 

While  bringing  forward  the  fact,  however, 
that  the  pollen  was  conveyed  by  insects  to  the 
stigma,  no  greater  advantage  was  assigned  by 
Sprengel  than  direct  contact  of  the  reproductive 
organs  —  in  itself  no  advantage  over  natural  fer- 
tilization —  without  suspecting  that  the  real  value 
of  insect-visits  to  the  plant  consisted  in  the  pol- 
len being  thus  carried  to  the  stigmas  of  other 
flowers,  and  by  this  means  accomplishing  cross- 
fertilization.  So,  Sprengel's  work,  "  The  Se- 
cret of  Nature  in  the  Form  and  Fertilization  of 
Flowers  discovered,"  was  allowed  to  lie  fallow 
until  called  up  again  by  the  advance  of  knowl- 
edge and  the  researches  of  modern  scientists, 
more  particularly  by  Darwin's  great  work,  "  The 
Origin  of  Species,"  and  his  later  book,  "The  Fer- 
tilization of  Orchids."  Miiller's  work,  published 
much  later  than  those  of  Darwin,  besides  the 


216  CJje  Garten's  Storn. 

author's  own  marvelous  researches  and  observa- 
tions, includes  references  to  everything  of  im- 
portance which  had  been  written  upon  the  sub- 
ject prior  to  its  publication.  Of  the  mass  of 
information  here  presented,  the  enumeration  of 
the  various  flower  species,  with  their  throngs  of 
visitors,  is  one  of  the  most  noteworthy  features. 

It  will  prove  interesting,  perhaps,  to  recapitu- 
late briefly  the  forms  and  character  of  insectiv- 
orous life  which  serve  to  carry  on  the  process 
of  cross-fertilization.  "  A  review  of  the  mode 
of  life  of  insects  which  visit  flowers,  and  of 
the  families  to  which  they  belong,"  says  Prof. 
Miiller,  "  shows  continuous  gradations  from 
those  which  never  visit  flowers  to  those  which 
seek  them  as  a  secondary  matter,  and  finally  to 
those  which  entirely  depend  upon  them.  This 
shows  clearly  that  insects  which  originally  did 
not  avail  themselves  of  flowers  gradually  became 
more  and  more  habituated  to  a  floral  diet,  and 
only  became  correspondingly  modified  in  struct- 
ure when  they  had  learned  to  depend  upon  such 
a  diet  exclusively." 

In  the  scale  of  importance  as  fertilizers,  the 
order  of  Hymenoptera,  to  which  belong  the 
bees,  takes  the  highest  rank,  its  members  in  the 
perfect  state  being  entirely  dependent  on  flow- 
ers. Bees,  which  confine  themselves  exclusively 


Knsect  Vfsftors.  217 


to  a  floral  diet,  have  led  to  more  adaptive  modi- 
fications in  these  flowers  than  the  Orthoptera 
and  Neuroptera,  the  Hemiptera,  the  Coleoptera, 
and  the  Diptera  and  Thysanoptera  combined. 
To  them  we  owe  the  most  varied,  most  numer- 
ous, and  most  specialized  forms,  the  flowers 
adapted  to  the  Apidce  probably  surpassing  all 
others  together  in  color-variety. 

The  Hemiptera,  to  which  belong  the  bugs, 
stand  higher  than  the  Orthoptera  and  Neurop- 
tera,  to  which  belong  the  cockroaches  and 
dragon-flies,  several  species  being  fitted  by  their 
small  size  to  creep  into  and  suck  honey  from 
very  various  flowers.  The  Coleoptera,  to  which 
belong  the  beetles,  are  of  much  greater  impor- 
tance as  fertilizers,  for  many  species  in  widely 
different  families  feed  at  times  on  flowers,  and  a 
still  greater  number  confine  themselves  to  such 
food  exclusively.  On  the  other  hand,  the  vora- 
cious beetle  does  much  harm  to  numerous  flow- 
ers by  nibbling  their  reproductive  organs. 

The  Diptera,  to  which  belong  the  flies  and 

gnats,  stand  on  a  still   higher  plane  than   the 

Coleoptera    in   the   matter   of   adaptation   to  a 

.  floral  diet,  and  are  of  far  more  importance  for 

fertilization,  the  majority  of  Dzptera  resorting  to 

flowers.     In  the  habits  of  the  Empidce  of  the 

general  order  Diptera,  Miiller  clearly  sees  the 

15 


218  JTfje  (SarTitn's  ,Storr>. 

transition  from  blood-sucking  to  honey-sucking. 
Sometimes  in  a  single  species  the  females,  which 
require  more  nourishment,  are  blood-suckers, 
while  the  males  seek  honey  only.  In  Paltosto- 
ma  torrentium  (Blepharocertdce),  two  different 
kinds  of  females  exist  together,  one  blood-suck- 
ing, the  other  honey-sucking ;  while  the  males 
are  all  alike,  and  all  feed  on  honey.  In  like 
manner,  Miiller  states  that  several  flowers  seem 
to  have  acquired  an  offensive  smell  correlative 
to  the  habits  of  certain  anthophilous  flies  which 
at  times  feed  on  putrid  flesh  and  excrement  as 
well  as  flowers.  Tiny  species  of  midges,  which 
people  dark  corners  by  day  and  leave  them  in 
the  evening,  are  regular  fertilizers  of  many  flow- 
ers which  afford  somber  hiding-places  for  their 
visitors. 

In  almost  all  bees  highly  specialized  for  fer- 
tilization, the  body  is  more  or  less  thickly  clothed 
with  long,  feathery  hairs,  that  in  many  flowers 
become  dusted,  without  any  direct  effort,  with  a 
considerable  quantity  of  pollen,  which  is  then 
cleared  off  by  means  of  the  tarsal  brushes. 
Easily  as  the  hairs  take  up  pollen,  they  return  it 
with  equal  ease  to  viscid  or  rough  stigmas. 

So  greatly  has  the  hirsute  covering  of  the 
hind-legs  increased,  and  so  perfect  has  become 
the  development  of  tarsal  brushes  in  the  exceed- 


Insect  Vfsftors.  219 


ingly  numerous  species  of  Halictus  and  Andre- 
na,  that  the  practice  of  feeding  the  young  on 
pollen  collected  by  these  hairs  is  exclusively  or 
mainly  relied  upon.  In  all  species  which  pro- 
vide for  their  own  young,  the  males  are  of  far 
less  service  for  fertilizing  plants  than  the  females, 
as  they  are  merely  interested  in  their  own  main- 
tenance, and  neither  collect  pollen  nor  visit  flow- 
ers very  diligently.  Yet,  in  all  species  in  which 
a  more  or  less  thick  coat  of  feathery  hairs  has 
become  developed  upon  the  bodies  of  the  fe- 
males, it  has  become  transmitted  by  inheritance 
to  the  males,  so  that  they  also  serve  as  pollen- 
collectors.  • 

Think  of  the  number  of  bees  alone  that  take 
part  in  the  process  of  fertilization  !  —  bees  with 
abdominal  collecting-brushes  and  long  probos- 
cides  ;  the  specially  long-tongued  Bombus  and 
Anthophora  ;  other  bees  with  long  or  moder- 
ately long  proboscides  ;  bees  of  the  genus  Pro- 
sopis,  themselves  possessing  a  peculiar  odor,  and 
preferring  highly  odorous  flowers  ;  Andrenadce 
and  ApidcE  ;  hive-bees  and  bumble-bees  ;  work- 
ers and  drones  ;  big  bees  and  little  bees  ;  and 
almost  every  variety  of  Hymenoptera  with  a 
sting  in  its  tail. 

The  Leptdoptera,  to  which  belong  the  but- 
terflies and  moths,  are  likewise  highly  important 


22O  ?Tf)e  ©farfcen's  Sstorj. 

agents  in  the  evolution  of  flowers,  for  which  they 
are  peculiarly  fitted  by  their  long,  thin  probos- 
cides,  enabling  them  to  probe  the  most  various 
flowers,  whether  flat,  long,  or  tubular.  Even  at 
night,  in  fragrant  gardens,  in  lonely  meadows,  in 
the  most  sequestered  woods,  the  process  of  in- 
sect fertilization  goes  on  continuously.  Then  it 
is  that  the  great  nocturnal  hawk-moths,  their 
two  immensely  long,  hollow  laminae  coiled  in  a 
spiral,  emerge  at  twilight  to  haunt  the  lighter- 
colored  flowers,  which  exhale  their  odor  most 
powerfully  at  night.  Verbenas  and  petunias, 
always  intensely  fragrant  at  this  time,  are  espe- 
cially sought  out  by  the  crepuscular-  Lepidopte- 
ra.  Like  the  humming-bird  and  swallow,  the 
body  of  the  great  sphinges,  tapering  at  the  tail, 
and  the  stiff,  pointed,  sharply-cut  wings,  are 
framed  with  special  reference  to  agility  and  sus- 
tained flight — agility  to  avoid  their  pursuers,  and 
great  strength  of  wing  to  sustain  constant  sus- 
pension in  mid-air.  I  have  seen  the  deliciously 
scented  Japanese  honeysuckle  (Lom'cera  Halle- 
ana),  on  warm  June  and  July  evenings,  swarm- 
ing with  the  large  Sphinges,  including  S.  Caro- 
lina, 5.  cinnerea,  and  the  smaller  S.  drupif era- 
rum,  the  former  being  present  most  numerously. 
The  humming  of  the  rapidly  vibrating  wings, 
the  quick,  furtive  flight,  the  perpetual  hovering 


n  Knsect  TJfsftors.  221 


over  the  flower-chalices,  the  curious  coiling  and 
uncoiling  of  the  great  suctorial  tubes,  are  a  feat- 
ure in  the  strange  processes  of  Nature  that,  once 
seen,  can  scarcely  be  forgotten. 

Miiller,  from  whom  I  have  already  drawn 
largely  on  this  fascinating  subject,  referring  to 
the  dusk-loving  Lepidoptera,  explains  that  the 
rapid  movements  always  characteristic  of  this 
species  may  be  due  "  to  the  shortness  of  the 
period  suitable  for  their  flight,  or  to  the  pursuit 
of  bats."  In  cases  which  have  come  under  my 
own  observation,  I  have  noticed  that  the  Sphinga 
appear  most  numerously  at  dusk,  haunting  their 
favorite  flowers  with  little  diminution  for  about 
two  hours,  and  apparently  decreasing  in  num- 
bers as  the  night  advances.  Bats,  I  have  repeat- 
edly noticed,  seem  most  abundant  during  the 
early  hours  of  night.  Tennyson's  passage  in 
"  Mariana  "  — 

After  the  flitting  of  the  bats, 

When  thickest  dark  did  trance  the  sky- 

would  corroborate  this,  if  the  poet  meant  to 
italicize  the  anterior  preposition. 

While  angling  for  speckled  trout  at  night  in 
summer,  I  have  observed,  where  the  bats  were 
very  numerous,  their  sudden  departure  and  sub- 
sequent appearance,  at  perhaps  quite  long  inter- 


222  Cte  Cfarten's 


vals.  Attracted  by  the  abundance  of  stream- 
frequenting  Lepidoptera,  the  Cheiroptera  dis- 
continued their  aerial  chase  so  soon  as  the  quar- 
ry withdrew  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  water, 
returning  with  the  reappearance  of  their  prey. 
Upon  the  retirement  of  the  bats,  the  trout  in  like 
manner  ceased  to  rise  freely  to  the  artificial 
white  moth,  the  time  of  the  "  take  "  being  ap- 
parently regulated  by  the  presence  of  the  bats, 
though  governed  really,  of  course,  by  the  return 
of  the  insects  in  their  merry-go-round  over  the 
surface  of  the  stream.  Finally,  the  flowering 
period  of  my  Japanese  honeysuckle  I  have  always 
found  a  certain  index  to  the  commencement  of 
night-fishing. 

I  am  not  aware  whether  the  great  sphinx  is 
too  big  a  mouthful  for  the  bat  ;  he  is  certainly  a 
bonne  bouche  for  the  greater  and  the  lesser  owls. 
Several  summers  ago  I  was  awakened  suddenly, 
about  midnight,  by  a  strange  noise,  as  of  some 
one  raising  the  awning  and  tiptoeing  on  top  of 
the  veranda.  A  bright  moon  was  shining,  and 
not  a  breath  of  air  was  stirring.  On  the  veran- 
da's rim,  looking  down  upon  the  honeysuckles 
and  their  honey-seeking  visitors,  stood  two  small 
screech-owls  ;  while,  startled  from  his  perch 
upon  the  awning,  a  great  horned  owl  flew  away 
without  a  sound. 


223 


"  The  swift,  violent  movements  of  the  Lepi- 
doptera,"  the  author  of  "  Die  Befriichtung  der 
Blumen  "  continues,  "  is  of  very  great  impor- 
tance to  the  plants  they  visit  ;  for  the  more  flow- 
ers that  will  be  visited  in  a  given  time,  the  less 
the  time  spent  on  each,  and  the  shorter  the 
time  spent  in  the  flight  from  one  to  another. 
This  explains  how  many  flowers  have  adapted 
themselves  specially  to  nocturnal  insects,  both 
by  their  light  colors  visible  in  the  dusk,  and  by 
their  time  of  opening,  of  secreting  honey,  or  of 
emitting  their  odor.  The  Sphingida  perform 
their  work  as  fertilizers  with  peculiar  rapidity, 
dropping  their  long  proboscides  into  a  flower  while 
hovering  over  it,  and  instantly  hastening  away 
on  their  violent  flight  to  another.  Accordingly, 
most  nocturnal  flowers  have  adapted  themselves 
specially  to  these  Lepidoptera,  hiding  their  honey 
in  such  deep  tubes  or  spurs  that  it  is  only  acces- 
sible to  the  Sphingidce" 

To  the  Lepidoptera  is  assigned  the  sec- 
ond or  third  place  as  fertilizers  before  or 
after  the  flies.  No  special  mention  of  the 
humming-birds  as  flower-fertilizers  is  made  by 
Miiller,  who  confines  his  observations  strictly  to 
insects. 

Very  many  flowers  that  are  only  accessible  to 
the  butterfly,  moth,  and  humming-bird,  on  ac- 


224  W*  Warden's  Storj. 

count  of  their  long,  contracted  nectaries,  have 
become,  as  we  have  seen,  gradually  developed 
or  modified  through  the  agency  of  their  visitors  ; 
while  the  colors,  odors,  and  periods  of  opening 
of  flowers  generally  are  in  relation  to  the  tastes 
and  habits  of  the  insects  that  frequent  them. 
Odor,  no  less  than  conspicuousness,  is  a  power- 
ful magnet  to  the  insect  tribes ;  indeed,  strong 
scent  is  even  a  greater  attraction  than  brilliant 
colors. 

Many  flowers  are  both  conspicuous  and  odor- 
iferous. On  this  point  Darwin  observes :  "  Of 
all  colors,  white  is  the  prevailing  one ;  and  of 
white  flowers  a  considerably  larger  proportion 
smell  sweetly  than  of  any  other  color,  namely, 
14.6  per  cent ;  of  red,  only  8.2  per  cent  are  odor- 
iferous. The  fact  of  a  large  proportion  of  white 
flowers  smelling  sweetly  may  depend  in  part  on 
those  which  are  fertilized  by  moths  requiring  the 
double  aid  of  conspicuousness  in  the  dusk  and 
of  odor.  So  great  is  the  economy  of  Nature, 
that  most  flowers  which  are  fertilized  by  crepus- 
cular or  nocturnal  insects  emit  their  odor  chiefly 
or  exclusively  in  the  evening.  Some  flowers, 
however,  which  are  highly  odoriferous  depend 
solely  on  this  quality  for  their  fertilization,  such 
as  the  night- flowering  stock  (Hesperis)  and 
some  species  of  Daphne  ;  and  these  present  the 


Insect  Ufsftors. 


225 


rare  case  of  flowers  which  are  fertilized  by  in- 
sects being  obscurely  colored."  * 

Thus  we  see  how  important  a  part  the  insect 
world  has  taken  in  the  evolution  of  the  floral 
world,  and  how  much  the  beauty  and  variety  of 
the  garden  owe  to  the  myriad  murmuring  wings 
which  ceaselessly  ply  their  appointed  task  of  de- 
velopment and  improvement. 

*  "  Cross-  and  Self-Fertilization,"  p.  374. 


§arbj]  Scrubs  anb  Climbers. 


AMONG  the  links  between  man's  mind  and  Nature  we  may 
place,  as  one  of  the  most  obvious,  man's  earliest  attempt  to 
select  and  group  from  her  scattered  varieties  of  form  that 
which — at  once  a  poem  and  a  picture— forms,  as  it  were,  the 
decorated  border-land  between  man's  home  and  Nature's 
measureless  domains,  The  Garden. — Bu LWER,  MOTIVE  POWER. 


X. 


HARDY   SHRUBS  AND  CLIMBERS. 

INCE  the  lilacs  were  in  bloom  there 
has  been  no  lack  of  other  shrubs  to 
extend  the  blossoming  season.  The 
slender-branched  Deutzia  (D.  gra- 
cilis),  the  rough-leaved  (D.  scabra),  D.  Pride  of 
Rochester,  D.  crenata  fl.  pi.,  and  others  of  the 
species,  are  all  indispensable  flowering  shrubs, 
appearing  in  the  order  named.  Scarcely  less 
effective  are  many  of  the  shrubby  Spiraas, 
which  flower  in  the  following  order,  from  the 
middle  of  May  to  the  middle  of  August : 
(i)  Prunifolia  fl.  pi.,  Thtmbergii  ;  (2)  Nicon- 
dertt  ;  (3)  cham<zdrifolia ;  (4)  cratcegifolia, 
lanceolata,  lanceolata  fl.  pi.,  lanceolata  robus- 
ta  ;  (5)  ulmifolia  ;  (6)  opulifolia  aurea,  cre- 
nata ;  (7)  Fontenaysii,  salicifolia,  sorbifolia  ; 
(8)  Billardi ;  (9)  ari<zfolia ;  (10)  callosa,  cal- 
losa  alba,  callosa  superba,  species  Japonzca.  S. 


230  CtJe  Cfartien's 


opulifolia  aurea  is  a  valuable  variety,  with  gold- 
en-yellow foliage.  It  deserves  a  place  by  itself, 
or  plenty  of  room  to  develop  in  the  shrubbery. 
Soon  after  its  blossoming  period,  the  four-cleft 
seed-pods  of  the  cymes,  which  are  thickly  clus- 
tered along  its  drooping  branches,  turn  to  a 
rich  terra-cotta  shade.  This  shrub,  when  once 
pruned  into  symmetrical  shape,  should  receive 
as  little  pruning  thereafter  as  possible,  or  the 
light,  graceful  effect  of  the  sprays  will  be  de- 
stroyed. 5.  Japonica  is  of  recent  introduction, 
a  graceful,  medium-sized  species,  covered  in 
July  with  attractive,  rosy-red  cymes. 

The  native  white  fringe  (Chionanthus  Vir- 
ginica),  though  classed  as  a  tree,  should  be  in- 
cluded among  flowering  shrubs.  It  is  distinct 
and  beautiful,  with  its  glossy  leaves  and  feathery 
plumes  of  pure  white,  fragrant  flowers.  Its  odor 
reminds  one  somewhat  of  the  native  yellow- 
wood  (Cladrastts  tinctoria  or  Virgilta  luted), 
one  of  the  finest  of  ornamental  trees,  with  wis- 
taria-like racemes  of  fragrant  white  flowers,  pro- 
fusely produced  during  midsummer  every  other 
year.  This  vies  with  the  lime-tree  in  the  attrac- 
tions it  presents  to  the  bees. 

Of  the  snow-balls  there  are  a  score  of  varie- 
ties to  choose  from.  Among  these,  the  com- 
mon Guelder  rose  (  Viburnum  opulus  sterilis)  is 


Scrubs  anfc  (Elfmfeers.         231 


among  the  best.  The  Chinese  V.  pltcatum  is 
the  finest  of  all,  surpassing  the  common  variety 
in  habit,  foliage,  and  flowers,  and  it  is  not  un- 
justly considered  one  of  the  most  valuable  orna- 
mental shrubs.  There  are  likewise  very  many 
varieties  of  the  syringa,  or  mock-orange,  to  select 
from  ;  some  earlier  and  later,  some  with  larger 
and  smaller  flowers,  some  odorless  and  some 
intensely  perfumed.  Doubtless  the  familiar  gar- 
land syringa  {Philadelphtcus  coronarius),  one 
of  the  earliest  to  appear,  is  as  satisfactory  as  any 
of  the  strongly  scented  kinds.  P.  Gordonianus, 
a  late  bloomer  and  vigorous  grower,  is  more 
delicately  perfumed.  The  golden-leaved  syringa 
(P.  foliis  aureis)  should  be  in  every  choice  col- 
lection of  shrubs  ;  its  shape  is  easily  maintained, 
and  its  vivid  golden  foliage  is  valuable  for  en- 
livening the  shrubbery  or  contrasting  with  pur- 
ple-leaved subjects. 

Some  like  the  odor  of  the  elder-flower  ;  many 
do  not  share  the  preference  shown  for  it  by 
the  flies.  In  any  event,  the  variegated-leaved 
variety  (Sambucus  variegatd),  its  foliage  mot- 
tled with  white  and  yellow,  is  one  of  the  best 
variegated-leaved  shrubs.  The  elder's  cymes, 
produced  so  profusely,  are  always  beautiful. 
The  golden-leaved  variety  has  vivid  yellow  foli- 
age, but,  somehow,  appears  to  have  a  sickly 


232  C&e  Garten's 


look,  or  to  have  assumed  an  autumnal  hue  be- 
fore its  time.  The  fern-leaved  and  cut-leaved 
varieties  are  both  fine  ;  and  S.  ntgra,  a  medium- 
sized  European  species,  gives  us  handsome  pur- 
ple-black berries  in  the  fall.  The  Halesia,  or 
silver-bell  (H.  tetraptera),  a  beautiful,  large 
shrub,  with  white,  bell-shaped  flowers  in  May, 
should  not  be  overlooked.  Besides  its  peculiar 
flower,  it  is  distinguished  by  its  large,  four- 
winged  fruit. 

During  latter  June  the  laurel-leaved  privet 
(Ligustrum  laurifolium)  is  laden  with  its  spikes 
of  creamy-white  flowers.  This  and  the  box- 
leaved  variety  are  probably  the  two  finest  ;  the 
latter  retains  its  thick,  dark-green  leaves  for  a 
long  period,  and  both  are  of  erect  and  handsome 
habit.  But  the  privet  is  liable  to  suffer  from 
extreme  cold,  and  is  slow  to  recover  when  af- 
fected. The  white  alder,  or  sweet  pepper-bush 
(Clethra  alnifolid),  should  have  a  partially 
shaded  and  sheltered  position,  as  well  as  abun- 
dance of  moisture,  to  do  it  justice,  its  natural 
habitat  being  swamps  and  low  woods.  A  drive 
through  the  woods  on  the  New  England  coast 
in  August  is  rendered  doubly  delightful  by  its 
delicious  breath,  rising  from  the  shaded  thickets 
where  it  grows  in  the  greatest  luxuriance.  On 
account  of  its  graceful  and  fragrant  flower- 


Scrubs  anti  Clfmbers.         233 

spikes,  its  neat  habit,  and  its  florescence  when 
most  other  shrubs  have  passed,  it  should  be 
seen  much  more  frequently  in  the  choice  shrub- 
bery. The  button-bush  (Cephalanthus  occiden- 
talis),  which  often  keeps  the  Clethra  company, 
is  a  desirable  shrub,  with  attractive  foliage,  and 
round  heads  of  sweet-scented  white  flowers  ap- 
pearing at  the  same  period. 

Kalmia  latifolia,  a  member  of  the  ornament- 
al heath  tribe,  would  be  one  of  the  most  desira- 
ble medium-sized  shrubs  if  it  could  be  grown  as 
it  grows  itself.  But  I  find  it  useless  to  attempt 
in  western  New  York,  where  artificial  culture  is 
entirely  unsuited  to  it,  under  whatever  condi- 
tions of  soil  and  position  it  may  be  tried.  The 
leaves  of  the  Kalmia  are  said  to  be  poisonous 
to  some  animals,  and  the  honey  derived  from  it 
has  been  known  to  prove  fatal  in  several  in- 
stances. It  is  always  well  to  try  new  plants 
which  one  admires,  or  plants  that  have  been 
recommended  ;  but,  when  one  does  not  aspire 
to  having  a  botanical  collection,  it  is  also  well  to 
drop  all  subjects  that  one  does  not  admire,  or 
that  prove  themselves  ill  adapted  to  the  climate. 
Still,  a  plant  may  be  well  worth  cultivating  in 
one  climate  and  worthless  in  another — I  might 
almost  say,  successful  in  one's  neighbor's  gar- 
den and  a  failure  in  your  own,  or  vice  versa. 
16 


234  £t)e  ©farfcen's 


Only  through  experimenting,  however,  can  one 
determine  what  to  attempt  and  what  to  avoid. 

Of  the  Diervillas,  or  Weigclas,  many  of  the 
so-termed  rose-colored  kinds,  I  think,  are  to  be 
avoided.  The  nurserymen's  catalogues  swarm 
with  the  many  varieties  of  this  shrub.  The  typ- 
ical color—"  rose  "—is  poor,  and  I  should  con- 
demn the  Weigela  as  a  garden  shrub  were  it 
limited  to  its  commoner  form.  The  white  va-  " 
rieties,  on  the  contrary,  are  desirable,  and  so 
are  some  of  the  dark  reds,  which  are  not  fre- 
quently seen.  A  clear,  rose-colored  variety,  re- 
cently introduced  under  the  name  of  "  Othello," 
is  an  exception  to  the  typical  rose-color,  and  is 
possessed  of  much  merit.  The  dark  form,  "  Jean 
Mace,"  lately  sent  out,  is  distinct,  its  long,  tubu- 
lar, maroon  flowers  being  specially  striking  in 
the  bud  stage.  "  Edouard  Andr£  "  and  "  Laval- 
lei  "  are  among  the  best  of  the  dark  hybrids,  but 
the  latter  has  a  straggling  habit.  Most  of  the 
Weigelas  are  apt  to  grow  straggling  with  age  — 
an  objectionable  feature  of  the  genus. 

The  Hibiscus,  althaea,  or  rose  of  Sharon,  is  a 
charming  adjunct  to  the  shrubbery  —  neat  in 
form,  free-flowering,  and  always  gay  during  late 
summer  and  September,  when  the  shrubbery 
begins  to  look  dull,  and  the  sad-voiced  crickets 
remind  one  that  the  floral  beauty  of  the  year  has 


5ttjartn?  JSfjrufcs  anti  dfmbers.         235 

begun  to  wane.  Both  the  double  and  single 
forms  are  fine  ;  and  the  white  and  flesh-tints, 
with  their  distinct  dark  eyes,  are  the  most  pleas- 
ing colors.  The  purples  and  violet-reds  are  for 
the  most  part  objectionable.  "  Painted  Lady," 
the  name  of  one  of  the  varieties,  well  describes 
the  lively  flower  of  the  althaea.  The  variegated- 
leaved  variety  is  one  of  the  finest  variegated- 
leaved  shrubs. 

Hydrangea  paniculata  grandiflora,  the 
great  -  flowered  hydrangea,  is  a  splendid  late- 
flowering  shrub,  with  its  immense  panicles  and 
changeable  shades,  and  it  should  enliven  every 
garden  in  September.  Nor  should  the  early 
white- flowering  Exochorda,  the  fragrant  white 
upright  honeysuckles,  the  sweet-scented  Caly- 
canthus,  and  the  Colutea,  or  bladder-senna,  at- 
tractive for  its  reddish  seed-pods,  be  overlooked 
in  the  collection  of  shrubs. 

Besides  the  flowering  species,  there  are  many 
shrubs  which  deserve  a  place  on  account  of  pe- 
culiar habit,  characteristic  foliage,  or  colored 
fruit.  Of  shrubs  with  dark-colored  foliage,  the 
pXirple-leaved  barberry,  purple-leaved  plum,  and 
many  of  the  dwarf  Japanese  maples,  may  be 
specified.  Of  shrubs  with  variegated  foliage, 
there  are  several  varieties  of  the  shrubby  dog- 
wood ;  several  of  the  Weigelas ;  the  silver- 


236  €Tt)e  kartell's  .Storp. 

leaved  Core/torus ;  the  white-edged  and  golden 
privets ;  the  golden  syringa  ;  the  variegated- 
leaved  elders  ;  the  variegated  St.  Peter's-wort ; 
the  variegated  althaea.  Numerous  shrubs,  also, 
are  valuable  for  their  ornamental  fruit,  which 
succeeds  the  flowers.  In  this  class  the  fol- 
lowing are  all  excellent :  The  common  bar- 
berry, with  scarlet  and  violet  fruit  in  Septem- 
ber ;  the  red  dogwood,  with  white  berries  in 
September ;  the  red-  and  the  white-fruited  Eu- 
onymus  ;  the  red-fruited  Cotonea ster ;  the  Cor- 
nelian cherry,  with  its  large  and  showy  red  fruit 
in  August ;  Elaagnus  edulis,  with  red,  cherry- 
like  fruit  in  midsummer  ;  the  red-berried  Vibur- 
num opulus  and  black-berried  lantanoides  ;  the 
black-fruited  elder ;  and  the  snowberry.  There 
are,  moreover,  many  trees  and  shrubs,  beauti- 
ful for  their  autumnal  coloring,  which  should 
be  remembered ;  these  will  be  referred  to  in  a 
subsequent  chapter. 

No  garden  is  complete — if  a  garden  can  ever 
be  complete — without  its  flowering  climbers. 
Even  the  kitchen-garden  should  have  its  scarlet 
pole-beans,  and  the  front  veranda,  at  least,  be 
festooned  with  blossoming  vines.  But  there  are 
so  many  desirable  sorts,  that  all  suitable  places 
about  the  house  and  grounds  should  be  utilized, 
to  enjoy  as  many  of  them  as  possible.  The  \vis- 


Scrubs  antj  Clfmbers.         237 

taria  alone  holds  a  whole  summer  of  fragrance 
in  its  June  cascade  of  bloom.  Those  who  care 
for  variety  have  a  number  of  kinds  to  choose 
from,  though  none  equals  the  robust,  hardy,  and 
free-flowering  Chinese  blue.  It  is  at  home  in 
any  exposure,  and  only  needs  support  to  a  suffi- 
cient height  to  prove  one  of  the  finest  ornaments 
of  the  garden.  By  planting  it  on  the  north  and 
on  the  south  side  of  the  house,  its  flowering 
period  may  be  greatly  extended,  a  vine  placed  in 
the  former  position  coming  into  bloom  just  as 
one  in  a  southern  exposition  is  passing. 

The  numerous  species  and  varieties  of  vir- 
gin's-bower,  or  Clematis,  are  beautiful  for  veran- 
da and  trellis  decoration,  as  well  as  for  fence- 
screens,  for  pillars  along  garden-walks,  and  for 
training  on  walls  and  arbors.  Few  hardy  plants 
afford  such  combined  beauty,  luxuriance,  and 
continuous  bloom.  For  a  full  description  of  its 
hundred  species  and  varieties,  the  reader  should 
consult  Moore  and  Jackman's  "  Clematis  as  a 
Garden  Flower,"  the  most  comprehensive  trea- 
tise on  the  subject.  Of  the  several  types,  the 
Jackmannt  and  Viticella  are  the  most  gener- 
ally seen — the  common  Jackmanni,  all  things 
considered,  being  the  most  satisfactory  repre- 
sentative of  the  genus  ;  these  flower  during  sum- 
mer and  autumn  in  continuous  masses  on  sum- 


238  Ci)e  Garten's  Sstorj?. 

mer  shoots.  The  Lanuginosa  typye,  of  which 
the  white  C.  Henryz  is  the  finest  example,  flow- 
ers during  the  summer  and  autumn  succession- 
ally  on  short  lateral  summer  shoots  ;  flowers  dis- 
persed. The  Vitftella  type,  represented  by  C. 
v.  venosa,  C.  v.  modesta,  etc.,  blossoms  in  the 
summer  and  autumn,  successionally,  in  masses, 
on  summer  shoots.  The  Graveolens  type,  flow- 
ering on  the  young  growing  summer  wood, 
some  of  which  are  odorous,  comprises  a  series 
of  hardy,  fast-growing  species  of  easy  culture. 
The  Montana,  Patens,  and  Florida  types  blos- 
som on  the  old  wood,  and  include  the  earliest  or 
spring-flowering  divisions  of  the  family.  The 
Patens  type  has  supplied  a  large  number  of  va- 
rieties, some  of  which  are  sweet-scented.  To 
this  section  belong  the  fine,  large  varieties,  Edith 
Jackson,  Fair  Rosamond,  Miss  Bateman,  and 
others.  In  whatever  form  or  color  it  occurs, 
whether  appearing  in  sheets  of  purple,  like 
Jackmanni  or  Alexander,  or  wreathing  a  road- 
side hedge  with  white  garlands,  like  our  native 
virgin 's-bower,  the  clematis  is  a  flower  which 
always  claims  our  admiration. 

Most  of  the  clematis  are  easily  grown  in  rich, 
deep,  friable  loam,  and  should  be  mulched  with 
old  manure  in  winter,  and  given  abundance  of 
water  during  dry  weather.  Partial  shade  serves 


Scrubs  antJ  (Elfmbera.         239 


to  develop  the  color  and  size  of  the  flowers. 
English  growers  advise  that  the  clematis  be 
richly  manured  ;  some  American  growers,  that 
it  must  not  have  manure  about  the  roots.  In 
any  event,  the  best  results  are  obtained  by  plant- 
ing it  in  new  soil,  in  partial  shade.  Not  unfre- 
quently  the  roots  of  many  of  the  clematis  be- 
come infested  with  a  grub,  which  forms  knobs 
along  the  fleshy  roots,  often  impairing  the  vital- 
ity of  the  plant.  A  species  of  blight  also  attacks 
it  sometimes,  causing  the  plant  to  die  down,  but 
apparently  not  injuring  it  below  the  surface, 
The  clematis  is  of  comparatively  recent  intro- 
duction to  this  country,  but  has  already  become, 
through  one  of  its  types,  at  least  —  Jackmanni  — 
the  most  popular,  perhaps,  of  climbing  flowering 
plants. 

It  is  well  that  no  one  flower  combines  every 
quality,  and  that  the  more  conspicuous  forms  of 
the  clematis  are  odorless.  Were  this  not  the 
case,  it  would  be  planted  still  more  extensively, 
and  we  should  lose  much  of  the  variety  which 
otber  climbers  contribute.  Showy  as  it  is,  it 
can  not  take  the  place  of  the  climbing  rose,  the 
joy  of  many  an  arbor  and  veranda  ;  or  the  honey- 
suckle, sweet  as  its  mellifluous  name.  The  lat- 
ter is  an  old  favorite,  and  one  that  no  other  flow- 
ering vine  can  well  surpass.  Attractive  in  all  its 


240 


Jkttrf . 


forms,  the  recently  introduced  Japanese  species, 
Lonictra  HalUana,  is  its  most  beautiful  repre- 
sentative for  the  veranda,  arbor,  trellis,  or  uall. 
This,  though  comparatively  little  known  in  Eu- 
rope, is  widely  disseminated  with  us,  where  it 
was  first  introduced  with  the  beautiful  Japanese 
Magnolia  HalUana,  by  Dr.  Hall,  of  Elmira. 
I  know  of  no  climber  that  combines  so  many 
good  qualities ;  for.  independent  of  its  vigorous 
growth  and  prodigality  of  fragrant  white  blos- 
soms, it  would  be  beautiful  for  its  dark-green 
evergreen  foliage,  which  it  retains  during  a  great 
portion  of  the  winter. 

With  honeysuckles,  as  with  many  other 
things,  however,  absolute  perfection  is  seldom 
found  in  a  single  variety  or  individual.  While 
this  species  is  as  yet  without  insect -enemies,  and 
is  unquestionably  hardy,  it  is  nevertheless  liable, 
even  after  having  passed  unscathed  through  sev- 
eral severe  winters,  to  die  down  suddenly  in 
spring,  apparently  from  the  effects  of  the  cold. 
This  is  the  case  mostly  with  old  plants,  and  I 
am  not  certain  whether  it  is  entirely  a  matter  of 
climate,  or  whether  it  is  not  due  partly  to  its 
habit  of  twining  so  closely  as  to  strangle  itself. 
But  it  is  so  rapid  a  grower  that  plants  are  soon 
replaced,  and  its  odor  is  so  delicious  and  its 
blooming  period  so  continuous,  that  it  is  worth 


.Strut*  an*  CUmbers.         241 


having  at  any  pains.  Its  fragrant  white  flowers, 
passing  to  yellow,  are,  as  previously  stated,  a 
powerful  magnet  to  the  bees  and  honey-seeking 
insects.  The  green  leaf-cricket  loves  its  shady 
tangle,  and  I  always  hear  his  first  ode  to  autumn 
among  its  leaves.  The  long  spur,  recurved  pet- 
als, and  feathery  stamens,  characteristic  of  the 
honeysuckle,  are  seen  to  advantage  in  numerous 
other  species,  the  next  best  to  HalUana  being 
the  monthly  fragrant,  or  Dutch,  a  vigorous  climb- 
er. with  red  and  yellow  fragrant  flowers  appear- 
ing all  summer.  The  Japanese  golden-leaved 
variety  is  handsome,  with  its  foliage  netted  or 
variegated  with  yellow. 

For  pillars  and  arbors,  the  native  trumpet- 
flower  (  Tecoma  radicans),  and  its  darker  form, 
T.  r.  var.  atrosangutnea,  are  valuable  climbing 
shrubs,  becoming  picturesque  with  age.  The 
large,  vivid  red,  tubular  flowers  in  clusters  are 
very  conspicuous,  showing  well  from  a  distance, 
where  it  may  be  placed  to  the  best  advantage  as 
a  pillar-plant.  Actinidia  polygamia  is  a  hand- 
some Japanese  climbing  plant,  with  dark,  clean 
foliage  resembling  that  of  the  apricot.  Its  flow- 
ers are  white,  with  a  purple  center,  and  some- 
times cover  the  whole  vine,  the  fruit  being 
round,  edible,  and  fine-flavored.  Other  hardy 
flowering  climbers  which  may  be  specified  are 


242  ric  Cartrn'i 


Aktbia  quinata,  a  singular  Japanese  climbing 
shrub,  with  fine  foliage,  purple  flowers,  and 
ornamental  fruit  ;  the  large-leaved  native  climb- 
ing staff-tree  (Cftastms  scatukns}.  with  yellow 
flowers  and  clusters  of  orange-capsuled  fruit  ; 
the  moonseed  (*\ff*ispermttm  CatuuUnst),  a  na- 
tive, twining,  slender-branched  shrub,  bearing 
small  yellow  flowers  and  black  berries  ;  the  silk- 
vine  (Periploca  Grtrca},  a  handsome,  fast-grow- 
ing European  climber,  with  glossy  foliage  and 
purple-brown  axillary  clusters  of  flowers.  The 
native  wild  bean  (Apia  tnt*r<ua)  is  a  small- 
growing  vine,  with  racemes  of  reddish-brown, 
fragrant  flowers,  recalling  the  perfume  of  vio- 
lets, which  is  best  left  to  twine  around  the  royal 
fern,  with  which  it  is  almost  always  found  m 
company. 

Finally,  among  the  native  clematis,  the  com* 
mon  virgin  's-bower  (C  Virginiama).  the  fra- 
grant  C.  rrisfta.  and  flammula.  as  well  as  C. 
inttgrifolia  and  PiUkeri.  may  each  and  all 
be  used  to  advantage  in  the  adornment  of  the 
garden. 


Jn  anb  out  of  tl)c  ©arben. 

THE  summer**  flower  i»  to  the  tummer  tweet. 
Though  to  iuclf  it  only  live  and  die. 

SONNET  XCIV. 

Not  only  the  days  but  life  itself  lengthens  in  summer. 
I  would  spread  abroad  my  arms  and  gather  more  of  it  to 
me  couW  I  do  so. 

RICHARD  Jtrr«mis,  THE  LIFE  or  THE  FIELDS. 


XI. 
IN  AND  OUT  OF   THE  GARDEN. 

MUCH-NEEDED  rain  has  come  at 
last— a  steady,  drenching,  searching 
rain ;  a  freshening,  quickening,  revivi- 
fying rain— a  ram  that  has  oozed  down  to  the  bot- 
tom, that  has  loosened  the  soil  and  cleansed  the 
foliage,  and  sought  out  every  root  and  rootlet 
beneath  the  ground.  Light  showers  are  of  little 
service  in  time  of  drought ;  they  are  like  the 
efforts  of  the  garden-hose,  and  have  no  lasting 
effect.  The  colors  of  the  flowers  have  come  out 
with  renewed  intensity,  and  there  is  a  marked 
increase  in  the  luster  of  the  foliage.  The  lark- 
spurs are  as  brilliantly  blue  as  the  sky  above 
them,  and  the  scarlet  lychnis  (L.  chalcedonicd) 
burns  as  intensely  as  the  setting  sun.  This  is 
one  of  the  most  dazzling  summer  flowers;  a 
single  bloom  of  it,  when  well  grown,  will  show 
its  color  to  advantage.  It  is  one  of  those  peren- 


246  £ftr  CBirtnTs  Ator? 

niaJs  that  may  be  dotted  here  and  there  in  the 
border ;  its  scarlet  is  so  strong,  it  does  not  require 
to  be  planted  in  masses.  This  varies  somewhat 
in  the  size  of  its  flower-heads  and  the  intensity 
of  its  hue  according  to  the  soil  and  the  season. 

The  same  observation  holds  good  with  very 
many  plants,  that  some  years  prove  extremely 
satisfactory  and  again  are  disappointing.  A 
thorough  rain  at  the  right  time  does  wonders 
toward  heightening  the  hues  of  flowers;  and 
cool  weather  is  everything  in  holding  the  true 
colors  of  many.  Certain  varieties  of  roses 
which  faded  rapidly  one  season,  and  which  I  had 
condemned  on  that  account.  I  have  found,  an- 
other season,  when  the  weather  was  favorable, 
entirely  satisfactory.  So  that  it  is  not  always 
possible  to  judge  of  the  merits  of  a  flower  from 
a  single  season's  experience.  Neither  can  one 
expect  that  a  species  which  is  desirable  in  one 
place  will  invariably  prove  so  in  another — so 
much  depends  on  climate,  soil,  and  the  caprice 
of  the  weather. 

A  fine  contrast  to  the  scarlet  lychnis,  besides 
the  larkspurs,  roses,  excelsum  and  candidum 
lilies,  is  Chrysanthemum  maximum,  a  grand, 
hardy  Marguerite,  which  'has  large  white  daisy- 
like  flowers,  with  yellow  centers,  on  stiff  stalks. 
The  narrow  notched  leaves  are  of  a  deep  green. 


*n  ant  out  of  ttr  eartrn.  247 

the  foliage  abundant,  and  the  plant  of  elegant 
habit. 

Buptkalmum  cordifolium.  the  European 
ox-eye,  is  a  stout  perennial  with  large  leaves, 
that  opens  its  yellow  blossoms  the  latter  part  of 
June,  soon  after  Antkemis  tinctoria.  It  is  far 
too  coarse  to  take  the  place  of  Coreopsis  lanceo- 
/a/a.  and  is  most  suitable  for  the  rear,  or  the 
wild  garden. 

Many  of  the  Cfntaureas,  the  plant  which 
cured  the  foot  of  Chiron,  wounded  by  the  arrow 
of  Hercules,  are  valuable  border-plants.  The 
large  blue  flowers  of  C.  montana  appear  early  in 
June.  This  is  not  so  neat  in  habit  as  some  ;  but 
its  blue  is  beautiful  and  the  flowers  charming  in 
the  cut  stage.  The  flower  of  C.  Ruthentica  ap- 
pears on  a  very  tall  stalk,  rising  high  above  the 
somewhat  sparse  foliage,  shortly  after  the  ap- 
pearance of  C.  montana.  The  single  blooms  are 
large,  but  they  only  hold  their  color  and  fresh- 
ness for  a  day  or  two.  C.  macrocephala  is  a 
robust,  thick-foliaged  species,  with  large  bright- 
yellow  flower-heads ;  and,  while  showy  as  a 
border-plant,  it  is  not  as  fine  as  C.  glastifolia,  a 
more  elegant  plant,  which  succeeds  it.  I  think 
this  the  finest  of  the  large  species,  crowned  in 
July  with  a  perfect  mass  of  golden  bloom  on 
branched  stalks  four  to  five  feet  high.  The  sil- 


248  Cftc  eartrn'i  Jkttrf. 

very  buds  themselves  are  handsome  for  several 
weeks  before  they  open.  C.  dtalbata,  an  eaiiier 
species  from  the  Caucasus,  is  a  medium-sited 
plant,  with  silvery  foliage  and  pretty  rose-purple 
flowers.  The  Persian  sweet-sultan  (C  moxka- 
ta).  though  an  annual,  is  always  worth  the  trou- 
ble of  growing. 

One  of  the  laifu*  JMrild  perennials  is  the 
great  groundsel  (Semecio  mafrofihylla}.  the  leaves 
of  which  attain  an  immense  size  in  shade,  but  as 
yet  1  have  been  unable  to  cause  it  to  flower :  the 
leaves  wither  quickly  in  the  sun,  and  it  is  also 
very  sensitive  to  dry  weather.  S.  p*lcktr,  a  very 
late  species,  bears  large  purplish  blossoms,  with 
yellow  centers,  a  handsome  and  distinct  flower, 
the  best  of  its  tribe.  SflfMN*  Caucasica  is  by 
far  the  best  of  its  section  of  the  teasel  family, 
and.  being  a  perennial,  is  more  valuable  than 
the  biennial  5.  atrop*rpurtat  also  a  handsome 
flower.  When  grown  in  congenial  soil  the  for- 
mer  is  a  beautiful  medium -sized  border-plant,  its 
large,  flat  lavender  flowers  being  very  distinct, 
and  gracefully  placed  on  tall  stems. 

In  specifying  Lychnis  ckalctdonica  as  one 
of  the  most  dazzling  reds.  I  meant  no  reflection 
on  the  scarlet  avens  or  Gfum.  It  has  as  bright 
an  eye  as  a  rabbit ;  at  least,  it  is  as  red  as  a  rab- 
bit's eye.  An  inhabitant  of  the  Bithynian  Mount 


in  en)  out  of  ttor  ISirfern.  249 

Olympus,  its  single  is  beautiful,  and  its  double 
doubly  so,  as  it  remains  so  much  longer  in  per- 
fection. The  Japanese  Veronica  longifolia  sub- 
sfssi/ts,  a  midsummer  flower  of  recent  introduc- 
tion, is  unquestionably  the  finest  herbaceous 
speedwell.  Its  flower  is  a  lovely  deep  blue,  and 
its  foliage  handsome.  It  is  in  all  respects  a  su- 
perior border-plant ;  this  species,  however,  does 
not  make  seed. 

Where  the  climate  suits  it.  the  large  horse- 
mint  (Monarda  didyma),  one  of  the  best  of  the 
big  labiates  and  the  finest  of  the  genus,  is  a  valu- 
able garden-flower.  The  leaves  possess  a  strong 
mint-like  odor,  and  the  dark  red  of  its  flowers  is 
striking.  It  is  apt  to  encroach  upon  its  neigh- 
bors, however,  and  requires  abundant  moisture. 
This  species  is  said  to  give  a  decoction  but  little 
inferior  to  the  true  tea.  and  was  formerly  largely 
used  as  a  substitute  in  Pennsylvania. 

There  are  numerous  species  of  the  Statict,  or 
sea-lavender,  the  best  of  which  is  5.  lutifolia. 
The  Staticc  is  invaluable  for  bouquets,  and  should 
be  in  every  garden  for  cutting,  to  employ  in  the 
old-fashioned  nosegay.  One  sometimes  becomes 
tired  of  the  regulation  bouquet,  composed  of  a 
single  flower,  and  then  the  Statice  helps  one  out. 
I  see  it  now,  its  feathery  sprays  rising  above 
the  sweet-smelling  nosegay  composed  of  car- 
17 


250  fir  CSirHriTi 


nations,  mignonette,  feverfew,  bachelor-buttons. 
Iceland  poppies,  pinks,  larkspurs,  sweet-will- 
iams. and  lemon-verbena.  There  should  always 
be  plenty  of  these  old-fashioned  flowers  to  cut 
from. 

The  grand  inflorescence  of  the  chestnut-trees 
on  the  hill-side  is  mostly  past—  not.  however,  be- 
fore the  cicada  rings  out  his  song  of  heat  I  in- 
variably hear  his  first  overture  while  the  chestnut 
is  still  in  bloom.  I  love  his  magnificent  <r*f- 
ccndo.  How  broad  his  diapason,  and  how  so- 
norous the  mighty  volume  of  sound  !  It  is  the 
most  fervid  of  all  summer  sounds,  this  ringing 
expression  of  drought  and  heat,  produced  by  the 
hind-  legs  with  which  he  leaps,  said  Aristotle  two 
thousand  years  ago.  It  is  pleasant  to  know. 
according  to  another  classic—  Zenachus—  that 
the  cicadae  live  happily,  since  they  all  have  voice- 
less wives  ;  the  two  drums  on  either  side  of  the 
body  under  the  wings  not  existing  in  the  female. 
The  cicada's  song  brings  up  Meleager  and  The- 
ocritus, the  classic  cicada.  I  believe,  being  a  spe- 
cies of  Tettix  or  harvest-fly,  erroneously  termed 
"locust."  Independent  of  entomological  accu- 
racy. cicada  is  the  preferable  name  ;  it  has  a 
drier  and  more  sibilant  sound.  Virgil's  cicada? 
are  qutrula  and  rauca  ;  Martial's,  argute  and 
inhuman*.  In  the  "  Anthologia,"  on  the  other 


in  ant  out  of  the  (T.aitorn  251 

hand,  they  are  always  sweet  singers.  Meleager's 
cicada  is  a 

Charmer  of  longing—counselor  of  sleep ! 
—  The  corn-field'*  chorister 
Whose  wings  to  musk  whir. 

Theocritus  can  only  find  in  the  cicada  a  minstrel 
sweet  enough  to  compare  with  the  song  of 
Thyrsis : 

For  sweeter,  shepherd,  is  thy  charming  song, 
Than  ev'n  cicadas  sing  the  boughs  among. 

There  is  much  of  the  delightful  old  Hellenic 
philosophy  in  Thoreau's  sentence :  "  The  things 
immediate  to  be  done  are  very  trivial ;  I  could 
postpone  them  all  to  hear  this  locust's  song."  I 
find  the  cicada  somewhat  like  the  rain — there  is 
always  an  interval  between  the  first  drops  and 
the  down- pour,  as  there  is  between  the  first 
warning  of  the  Tettix  and  his  subsequent  chorus 
of  heat. 

The  grasshopper  and  cricket  have  but  just 
begun  their  song  in  faint,  quavering  notes,  which 
they  will  increase  with  the  advance  of  the  season, 
and  the  male  green  leaf-cricket  is  voiceless  as  yet 
on  the  honeysuckle-vine.  These  will  atone  ere 
long  for  the  silence  of  the  birds  whose  voices  fail 
as  the  insect  stridulation  gathers  force. 

On  sandy  banks  the  butterfly-weed  (Asclcpias 


2$2  rtt  Cartien'i  Atttf. 

tubtrosa)  was  gay  a  fortnight  since  with  orange 
corymbs.  It  is  among  the  brightest  of  summer 
flowers  and  the  most  brilliant  of  the  extensive 
milkweed  tribe  that  crowds  and  perfumes  the 
waste  places  during  summer.  Leaving  the  sandy 
places  where  it  grows,  I  find  the  wild  rose  still 
in  blossom  How  full  the  aroma  held  by  its 
few  single  pink  petals— a  freshness  and  pungency 
its  cultivated  sisters  do  not  possess  for  all  their 
double  cups  and  titled  names !  In  the  swamp 
further  on,  where  virgin's  -  bower  and  purple 
nightshade  wreath  their  festoons,  there  streams 
a  veritable  sunset  of  color.  The  gorgeous  car* 
dinal-flower  (LoMia  tardinalis)  is  in  full  pano- 
ply of  bloom— the  most  vivid  red  of  the  year,  a 
red  that  seems  endowed  with  conscious  life,  so 
glowing  is  its  fire.  Growing  near  it  I  find  the 
great  blue  lobelia  (L.  syphilitic*),  a  conspicuous 
flower,  and  more  rarely  its  white  form,  with  an 
occasional  plant  of  the  fragrant  snake -head 
(Ckthnt  glabra). 

Something  fascinating  there  is  about  a  swamp 
—its  rare  flora,  its  gloom  in  daylight,  its  fresh- 
ness in  drought,  its  ever-present  mystery.  You 
can  not  grasp  it  as  you  can  the  dry  woodland. 
The  very  birds  are  evasive,  and  its  flora  leads 
one  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  tangle  where  the 
woodcock  springs  from  the  thickets  of  jewel- 


In  snt  out  of  ttor  Cartrn.  253 

weed  and  the  owl  skims  noiselessly  from  his  twi- 
light haunt.  The  plaintive  cry  of  the  veery  from 
the  tree-tops  above  only  serves  to  emphasize  its 
silence,  while  the  scream  of  its  warder,  the  blue 
jay,  seems  its  voice  speaking  to  the  solitude.  I 
usually  find  what  might  be  termed  a  foot-path 
threading  a  swamp,  not  always  readily  discerni- 
ble, but  sufficiently  marked  to  make  it  appear  a 
foot-path,  the  highway  of  the  hares  and  wild 
animals.  These  resort  to  it  not  only  for  food 
and  water,  but  for  warmth  and  security.  The 
hibernating  birds  turn  to  it  instinctively  and  seek 
it  for  their  winter  quarters. 

The  swamp  is  Nature's  sanctuary — the  great 
gamekeeper  and  game-protector.  It  is  the  ram- 
pan  of  the  landscape.  Within  its  sheltering 
arms  is  nurtured  the  most  beautiful  of  sylvan 
utterances,  the  roll-call  of  the  ruffed  grouse. 
Without  its  helping  hand  both  furred  and  feath- 
ered game  must  in  many  localities  become  vir- 
tually exteiminated,  and  a  wood  without  game  is 
a  wood  devoid  of  one  of  its  most  individual  at- 
tributes. There  is  ever  a  charm  in  the  elusive, 
the  untamed  in  nature  ;  to  have  its  wild  animate 
forms  about  us,  though  we  may  only  clasp  the 
shadow.  The  trout-stream  in  its  mazes  through 
the  woods  possesses  an  additional  voice  and 
meaning  to  me  for  the  radiant  life  that  lurks 


254  ?**  S«rten'i  Atorj. 

within  its  pools  and  shallows.  I  care  less  for 
the  rod  than  to  feel  the  rightful  habitant  is  at 
home. 

The  owl's  weird  cry  borne  upon  the  Decem- 
ber dusk  without  brings  the  wintry  woods  into 
my  room — the  rustle  of  dry  beech-leaves,  the 
breath  of  lichens  and  of  pines.  All  Nature  for 
the  instant  seems  articulate  in  his  cry  You 
may  never  meet  the  fox  face  to  face  unaided  by 
the  hounds ;  but  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  know  he  is 
present.  Keen  of  scent  and  fleet  of  foot  he  has 
passed  long  before  you.  evaded  you ;  yet  he  is 
there,  somewhere,  farther  on  amid  the  mystery 
and  silence,  in  all  his  lissome  grace  and  supple- 
ness of  sinew.  The  very  footprints  of  the  hare 
recall  the  living  presence  of  the  hare,  his  wild 
beauty  and  his  nimble  speed.  So  that  in  a 
swamp  or  wood  tenanted  by  game  this  fascination 
i*  ever  present — the  living  unconfined  creatures 
appearing  a  component  part  of  the  trees  and  un- 
dergrowth, with  which  the)'  blend  and  become 
incorporated,  just  as  the  shadows  belong  to  and 
accentuate  the  strength  of  the  sun.  So  also  in 
the  garden  copse,  when  the  mold  is  starred  with 
Hepaticas  and  Trillinms.  the  wild  flowers  are 
obliterated  for  the  moment  to  me  when  a  squir- 
rel barks  or  a  white-throated  sparrow  sings. 

In  the  swamp,  on  blustering  days  without,  I 


ITY 

^^^^* 

In  anD  out  of  ttr  €>irtrn. 

see  the  downy  woodpecker's  scarlet  coronet,  his 
busy  mallet  beating  its  sonorous  rat-tat-tat  on 
hollow  trees.  I  catch,  too,  the  fine  call-note  of 
the  little  brown-creeper  running  up  and  down 
and  around  the  limbs  and  tree-trunks  in  quest  of 
his  food,  and  hear  the  flute-like  call  of  the  tree- 
sparrow  feeding  on  the  spicy  buds  of  the  sweet 
birch.  I  mark  the  caressing  "  day,  day,  day  "  of 
the  black-cap  chickadees,  happy  in  the  cold  and 
storm,  while  the  solemn  "  yank,  yank,  yank  "  of 
the  nut-hatch  is  never  still.  Leaving  the  woods 
proper  on  a  windy  winter's  day,  even  a  sheltered 
beech-wood  where  the  clinging  foliage  of  the 
beeches  and  hornbeams  wards  off  the  wind,  there 
is  an  ever- fresh  surprise  in  the  absolute  absence 
of  wind  and  positive  warmth  of  the  swamp. 
Green  as  in  midsummer  are  its  club-mosses  and 
evergreen  ferns,  and  the  goldthread,  winter- 
green,  and  partridge- vine  seem  merely  hibernat- 
ing beneath  the  snow.  A  temperature  it  pos- 
sesses of  its  own — cool  in  summer  and  warm  in 
winter— and  a  flower  I  find  cradled  in  its  shade 
always  appears  to  have  gained  in  purity  or  re- 
finement of  hue. 

Another  shade-loving  plant  now  passing  out 
of  blossom  is  the  white  swamp  honeysuckle 
(Azalea  viscosa),  succeeding  the  pink  A.  nudi- 
flora,  whose  fragrant  flower-clusters,  exhaling 


256  Cbe  ««rttn*i 


the  characteristic  honeysuckle  odor,  proclaim  its 
presence.  The  tall  red  lilies  along  the  edge  of 
the  swamp  have  long  since  made  their  summer 
display;  but  the  fading  flower  -  spikes  of  the 
greater  orchid  are  still  seen  in  low  places  just  as 
the  ladies-tresses  are  forming  their  flower-heads 
amid  the  meadow  grasses.  The  spring  beauty 
and  Trillium  have  vanished  from  the  woods, 
and  Hs  pat  teas  and  Violas  are  hidden  by  the 
stronger  growing  plants  of  midsummer.  There 
is  a  crowd  of  tall  evening  primroses,  white  and 
purple  Eupatoriums,  pink  Epilobiums.  blue  ver- 
vains, pale  asters,  yellow  golden-rods,  and  heli- 
anthuses,  all  jostling  and  striving  for  supremacy. 
Growth  is  rank  on  every  side.  It  is  the  seed- 
time and  harvest  of  the  big  weeds,  when  the 
waste  places  become  a  veritable  jungle,  perilous 
and  almost  impassable  to  man  and  beast.  It  is 
the  high  carnival  of  sticktights,  nettles,  burdocks, 
briers,  brambles,  tares,  thistles,  teasels,  and  noli 
mt  tangeres  innumerable,  among  which  the  true 
touch-me-not  or  jewel-weed  least  deserves  its 
name,  for  there  is  nothing  noxious  about  it  or 
vicious  in  the  strange  bursting  of  its  seed-pods 
at  the  touch,  whence  it  derives  its  appellation. 
The  sticktight,  the  tare,  and  the  burdock  are  the 
true  fiends  incarnate  among  the  sticking  and 
stinging  weeds.  I  revere  the  inventor  of  cordu- 


£n  an*  out  of  tfte  Cartoon.  257 

roy,  the  only  coat  of  mail  with  which  one  can 
wade  comparatively  unscathed  through  the  gant- 
let of  these  tramps  and  ruffians  of  the  field. 

The  everlasting  is  white  with  flower  in  the 
pastures,  and  on  sunny  upland  slopes  rank  upon 
rank  of  mullein-spires  tower  above  the  carpet  of 
fragrant  pennyroyal.  Along  the  water-courses 
Heliopsis  kevis  has  set  its  fringe  of  gold,  visible 
from  afar,  the  want-courier  of  the  pageant  of 
autumn  that  will  come  in  a  tidal  wave  of  color 
to  brighten  the  declining  year. 


/ 


fernery. 


You  will  pardon  some  obscurities,  for  there  are  more 
secrets  in  my  trade  than  in  most  men's.  And  yet  not  vol- 
untarily kept,  but  inseparable  from  its  very  nature.  I  would 
gladly  tell  all  that  I  know  about  it,  and  never  print  "  No 
admittance"  on  my  gate  — THOMAU. 


XII. 
THE   HARDY  FERNERY. 

HATEVER  the  garden  may  owe  to 
i  hardy  flowers,  and  however  varied  and 
attractive  its  collection  of  shrubs  and 
trees,  it  would  still  be  lacking  in  one  of  its  great- 
est charms  if  deprived  of  ferns.  They  are  the 
very  quintessence  of  the  woods,  whether  they 
rise  to  form  a  classic  urn  like  the  great  ostrich, 
or  quiver  on  ebon  stems  like  the  lovely  maiden- 
hair. The  very  name  has  a  fresh,  fragile  sound 
in  any  language  —  Fih'ces.  fflci,  fougeres, 
Farnen,  ferns.  The  fern  offers  no  excuse  for 
not  possessing  flowers.  Color,  other  than  its  in- 
finitely varied  greens  and  the  dark  spore-cases 
underneath  or  on  the  margins  of  the  fronds, 
would  mar  its  beauty.  Its  green  and  its  grace 
are  its  flower,  and  Nature  wisely  left  it  a  flower- 
less  plant,  the  embodiment  of  beauty  in  foliage. 
When  well  grown  the  fern  carries  its  character- 


262  rtir  (Garten's  Storn. 

istic  tropical  effect  to  the  garden,  and,  once  es- 
tablished, the  hardy  fernery  may  become  one  of 
the  finest  ornaments  about  the  home.  It  is, 
however,  seldom  seen  to  good  advantage  under 
cultivation,  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  is  gen- 
erally left  to  take  care  of  itself,  a  matter  it  is 
never  called  upon  to  do  in  its  native  state,  where 
it  is  protected  from  wind,  has  its  fronds  moist- 
ened by  condensation,  and  is  provided  with  con- 
genial soil  and  coveted  shade.  The  delicate 
beauty  of  a  fern-frond  can  not  be  obtained  out- 
side of  its  native  habitat  without  in  part  repro- 
ducing the  natural  conditions  under  which  it 
grows.  Shade,  shelter,  moisture,  and  suitable 
soil  are  its  main  requirements.  Some  species,  of 
course,  occur  naturally  in  sunshine  and  dry  soil, 
and  these  may  be  grown  under  like  conditions. 
The  long  period  during  which  they  retain  the 
freshness  of  their  fronds  is  a  notable  feature  of 
the  genus,  while,  whatever  the  season  of  the  year, 
some  of  the  species  are  found  perennially  green. 
Most  hardy  ferns  are  not  difficult  to  cultivate, 
many  being  very  accommodating  and  growing 
where  little  or  nothing  else  would.  Hot  summers 
do  not  affect  them  disastrously  as  is  the  case 
with  many  plants,  providing  sufficient  water  be 
supplied  at  such  times. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  house,  beneath  the 


»art>n  JTernerj.  263 


shade  of  non-surface-rooting  trees  and  in  low, 
moist  positions,  a  very  large  number  of  hardy 
native  species  may  be  successfully  grown.  Not 
a  few  of  the  species,  even  those  which  naturally 
occur  in  shade,  will  do  well  in  open  places, 
though,  except  some  of  the  sun-loving  kinds, 
few  will  attain  that  luxuriance  and  delicacy  of 
color  they  possess  in  shade  or  partial  shade. 

A  shady  and  sheltered  position  will,  there- 
fore, be  chosen  for  the  hardy  fernery  ;  for  shelter 
from  winds  is  no  less  important  than  protection 
from  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun.  This  position 
should  be  readily  accessible  to  a  fine  dust-spray 
attached  to  the  hose.  Ferns  are  generally  found 
in  moist  situations,  thriving  in  a  humid  atmos- 
phere ;  and  these  conditions  must  be  followed  as 
nearly  as  possible.  But  while  ferns  and  moist- 
ure are  almost  synonymous,  constant  watering 
is,  nevertheless,  to  be  avoided.  It  is  only  when 
the  soil  is  becoming  dry,  before  the  dryness  is 
felt  and  shown  by  the  sensitive  fronds,  that  water- 
ing is  necessary.  The  foliage  of  ferns  does  not 
like  constant  drenchings,  pelting  rains  frequently 
being  as  injurious  as  severe  winds.  But  the 
effects  of  wind  are  more  severely  felt  where  the 
plants  do  not  receive  their  necessary  supply  of 
moisture,  the  stems  becoming  more  brittle  if  the 
roots  are  not  moist  and  cool.  Watering  the 


264  Fhr  Garten 's  Storn. 

grass  and  the  surroundings  of  the  fernery  in 
the  evening,  when  the  ferns  themselves  do  not 
require  watering,  is  appreciated  by  the  plants, 
this  tending  to  preserve  a  humid  atmosphere. 
Watering  a  little  every  day  or  two  merely  keeps 
the  surface  damp,  and  does  not  reach  the  roots, 
or  prevent  the  foliage  from  becoming  dry.  It  is 
far  better  to  give  a  good  supply  of  water  occa- 
sionally, as  the  plants  require  it ;  an  observation 
that  will  apply  equally  to  most  other  hardy 
plants.  Having  chosen  the  position  for  the 
fernery,  the  ground  should  be  dug  to  the  depth 
of  two  feet,  and  filled  in  for  the  most  part  with 
black  muck,  leaf-mold,  and  a  small  portion  of 
sandy  loam.  This  gives  a  light,  elastic  soil,  re- 
tentive of  moisture  and  suitable  for  most  ferns. 
The  fernery  is  much  benefited  by  a  liberal  top- 
dressing  of  old  leaf-mold  every  autumn ;  and, 
aside  from  the  protection  to  some  of  the  less 
hardy  species,  a  thick  winter  covering  of  leaves 
and  evergreen  boughs  is  advisable,  in  order  to 
prevent  the  heaving  of  the  ground  by  frost. 

The  common  ostrich-fern  (Onoclea  struthioft- 
teris)  is  among  the  most  robust  and  easily  grown 
of  the  genus,  which  numbers  in  the  United 
States  some  one  hundred  and  sixty-one  species, 
fifty  of  which  are  indigenous  to  the  State  of  New 
York.  On  account  of  its  strong  growth  and  the 


JTernerj.  265 


frequency  with  which  it  throws  out  suckers  from 
its  rambling  rhizomes,  it  is  best  placed  by  itself. 
Planted  numerously  with  other  species  it  soon 
crowds  them,  unless  the  suckers  are  checked. 
Few  plants  have  a  more  tropical  effect  than  this, 
a  mass  of  it  forming  a  grand  feature  of  any  gar- 
den. It  is  well  and  tersely  described  by  Gray  — 
"  a  fern  of  noble  port."  This  does  best  in  shade, 
but  it  may  also  be  grown  in  sun. 

The  royal  fern  (Osmunda  regalis),  which  be- 
longs to  the  class  of  flowering  ferns,  is  rarely 
seen  to  good  advantage  under  cultivation.  It  is, 
likewise,  one  of  the  most  robust  of  the  genus, 
occurring  naturally  both  in  open  sun  and  dense 
shade,  but  always  in  wet  or  moist  situations. 
Perhaps  there  are  none  of  the  large  species 
whose  color  varies  so  much,  the  young  plants, 
more  especially  in  sunny  situations,  assuming 
varied  shades  of  reddish-green.  In  rich,  marshy 
places  it  frequently  grows  to  a  height  of  five 
feet.  It  is  pre-eminently  a  bog-garden  plant, 
where  it  may  be  grown  as  vigorous  as  it  occurs 
naturally,  the  bronze  and  copper  hues  showing 
more  boldly  in  open  situations.  A  smaller  form 
(O.  gractlis)  occurs,  with  broader  foliage  and 
more  urn-shaped  than  the  type. 

A  very  common  fern,  found  in  dry  places,  is 
another  of  the  same  species,  the  interrupted 
18 


266  JTtir  <r.ni-T»rn's  Atorv. 

flowering  fern  (0.  Claytoniand),  interrupted  near 
the  center  of  the  leaf-stalks  by  several  pairs  of 
fertile  leaflets  densely  covered  with  brownish 
sporangia.  This  gives  a  rusty,  unfinished  look 
to  the  fronds,  and  for  this  reason  it  is  undesira- 
ble for  the  fernery,  and  not  to  be  compared  with 
another  of  its  family,  the  cinnamon-fern  (O.  cin- 
namomea).  The  yellowish  fertile  fronds  of  this, 
springing  from  the  center  of  the  plant,  during 
its  younger  stage,  are  distinct  and  beautiful, 
while  the  species  is  a  tall,  robust  grower. 

Perhaps  the  most  distinct  of  native  ferns  is 
the  sensitive  fern  {Onoclta  sensibilis),  common 
to  low  woods  and  moist  grounds.  Aside  from 
its  striking  peculiarity  of  foliage  and  its  dark- 
colored  spore-cases,  its  young  fronds,  through- 
out the  summer,  wear  a  lovely  light-green  hue 
possessed  by  no  other  member  of  the  genus. 
The  sensitive  fern  should  be  grown  in  shade, 
the  fronds  quickly  becoming  scorched  by  sun. 
It  would  impart  a  distinct  appearance  to  the 
garden  landscape  grown  en  masse,  being  so 
rarely  seen  in  gardens.  It  is  one  of  the  best 
ferns  amid  which  to  plant  the  tall  wild  red  lilies. 
Owing  to  its  being  somewhat  tardy  to  start  into 
growth,  the  latter  do  not  become  choked,  as  they 
are  by  the  more  forward  and  ranker-growing  os- 
trich. 


jrernerj.  267 


The  common  brake  or  bracken  (Pteris  agut- 
lino),  while  distinct  from  the  generality  of  ferns, 
is  not  worth  cultivating,  unless  on  the  margins 
of  woods,  or  places  where  little  else  will  thrive. 
It  spreads  with  great  rapidity,  and  soon  becomes 
a  pest  if  placed  among  other  ferns.  The  big 
moonwort  (Botrychhtm  vtrgintcum),  the  largest 
of  the  species,  differs  essentially  from  most  of 
the  genus.  It  is  termed  "a  beautiful  fern,"  but 
does  not  show  to  advantage  when  planted  with 
others  of  its  tribe. 

The  shield-ferns,  or  Aspidtecp,  number  many 
of  the  noblest  of  hardy  ferns.  Of  these,  the  de- 
ciduous A.  aculeatum  and  A.  Goldianum,  the 
evergreen  A.  achrosticoides,  A.  cristatum,  A. 
filix-mas,  A.  marginale,  and  A.  spinulosum 
are  among  the  finest,  best  known,  and  most 
easily  grown.  Nearly  all  of  the  species,  what- 
ever their  size,  are  delicately  beautiful,  the  finely 
serrated  plumes  being  a  conspicuous  character- 
istic. The  woods  where  I  find  the  ruffed  grouse 
and  the  large  white  hares  in  winter  would  seem 
lonely  without  the  freshness  of  the  Christmas- 
fern  and  the  perennial  verdure  of  the  evergreen 
wood-fern.  The  frost,  whose  sharp  scythe  has 
cut  off  the  foliage  and  the  flora,  seems  only  to 
have  brought  out  a  richer  green  in  these  flower- 
less  plants,  that  never  look  half  so  lovely  as  they 


268  £!)e  CJarticn's 


do  in  winter.  They  seem  the  type  of  hardiness 
and  longevity,  and  mask  the  loneliness  of  the 
leafless  trees. 

Every  one  knows  and  admires  the  maiden- 
hair (Adiantum  pedatum),  its  fragile,  polished 
stem  supporting  its  delicate  lace-work  of  foliage. 
Erroneously  supposed  to  be  difficult  to  cultivate, 
the  maiden-hair,  nevertheless,  takes  quite  kindly 
to  cultivation  when  placed  amid  congenial  sur- 
roundings and  allowed  time  to  become  estab- 
lished. Two  among  medium  -sized  ferns  — 
Cystopterts  fragilis  and  C.  bulbifcra—  deserve 
a  place  on  the  front  edge  of  the  fernery.  If  the 
former  has  a  fault,  it  is  the  early  discoloration  of 
the  fine  fronds.  But  it  is  one  of  the  most  grace- 
ful of  its  tribe,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  for- 
ward to  clothe  with  green  the  bases  of  trees  in 
the  woods  of  early  spring.  C  bulbifera  is  less 
common,  but  very  prolific  where  it  occurs—  a 
delicate  fern,  with  long,  slender,  arched  fronds. 
I  have  found  this  troublesome  in  the  rock-gar- 
den, on  account  of  its  coming  up  almost  every- 
where soon  after  being  introduced. 

There  are  numerous  other  desirable  species, 
of  large  and  medium  habit,  that  may  appropri- 
ately find  a  place  in  the  hardy  fernery  ;  but,  for 
all  ornamental  purposes,  a  sufficient  variety  may 
be  obtained  by  those  already  specified,  without 


jTcrnerj.  269 


further  extending  the  list.  It  is,  perhaps,  super- 
fluous to  remark  that  where  the  fernery  is  placed 
by  the  side  of  the  house,  or  against  a  wall,  the 
more  robust  kinds  should  occupy  the  back- 
ground, and  the  smaller-growing  species  the 
foreground,  where  they  can  not  become  smoth- 
ered. Thus  far  I  have  referred  only  to  the  more 
robust  species.  But  a  great  merit  of  the  Ftlices 
is,  that  the  smaller  they  become  the  more  beau- 
tiful they  seem.  The  little  oak-fern  (Phegop- 
teris  dryopteris),  for  instance,  whose  delicate 
print  is  found  on  decayed  logs  and  moist,  shady 
places,  is  one  of  the  loveliest  of  its  family. 
The  diminutive  polypody,  too,  that  drapes  dry 
bowlders  with  its  living  green,  is  a  fern  one 
must  always  stop  to  admire,  however  common 
it  may  be. 

These  smaller  ferns,  with  many  others,  can 
not  be  grown  with  the  larger  sorts,  and  must 
have  a  special  place,  either  the  rock-garden 
proper  or  a  small  bed  by  themselves.  The  oak- 
fern  and  beech-fern  are  easily  established  in 
leaf-mold  and  loam.  The  common  polypody 
and  the  larger  and  handsome  Polypodium  fal- 
catum  are  not  always  so  accommodating,  pre- 
ferring a  mixture  of  peat,  leaf-mold,  and  sharp 
sand  or  sandy  loam.  There  are  very  many  va- 
rieties of  the  polypody  cultivated  in  England. 


270  fte  Carten'H  .Stern. 

Woodsia  Itoensis  and  W.  obtusa  are  beautiful 
small  ferns. 

The  curious  walking-fern  (Camptosorus  rhi- 
zophyllus)  I  have  found  difficult  to  establish,  and 
the  charming  little  maiden-hair  spleenwort  (As- 
plenium  trickomants),  though  numerous  speci- 
mens of  it  live  on  from  year  to  year,  never  looks 
quite  vigorous.  A.  ebencum,  a  larger  species 
from  Oregon,  I  have  found  rather  fastidious,  as 
also  Ckeilanthes  vestita  and  the  delicate  Crypto- 
gramme  acrostichoidcs.  The  distinct  hartV 
tongue  {Scolopendrium  vulgar e)  does  well  with 
me.  Upward  of  fifty  forms  of  the  latter  are 
cultivated  in  England,  many  being  of  marked 
beauty.  AspUnium  nigrum  is  an  easily  grown 
small  English  fern  which  will  grace  any  collec- 
tion. Ceterach  officinarum  is  likewise  a  very 
distinct  and  handsome  small  British  fern,  though 
not  so  easily  grown  as  the  latter. 

To  grow  the  more  delicate  small  ferns  suc- 
cessfully demands  a  favorable  climate  and  location 
with  a  thorough  knowledge  of  their  requirements, 
and  only  true  fern-lovers  who  are  willing  to  devote 
the  necessary  time  and  study  will  find  it  worth 
while  to  attempt  the  cultivation  of  the  greater 
portion  of  the  very  beautiful  smaller  Filices. 

It  is  more  satisfactory  to  collect  ferns  your- 
self; they  then  become  a  pleasing  reminder  of 


jTrrnrin. 


271 


many  a  locality  where  they  were  obtained.  Re- 
moval may  be  successfully  effected  at  almost 
any  season.  For  beginners  early  autumn  is  a 
favorable  time  for  collecting,  as  it  is  near  the 
dormant  season  ;  and  yet  the  various  species 
may  be  readily  distinguished,  the  fronds  having 
not  yet  dried. 


fUibsnmmcr  florocre  onb  fttibsummer 
boiccs. 

That  time  of  year,  you  know,  when  the  summer,  beginning 
to  sadden. 

Full-mooned  and  silver-misted  glides  from  the  heart  of  Sep- 
tember, 

Mourned  by  disconsolate  crickets,  and  iterant  grasshoppers 
crying 

All  the  still   nights  long,  from  the  ripened   abundance  of 

HOWELLS, 


XIII. 

MIDSUMMER    FLOWERS   AND 
MIDSUMMER  VOICES. 

|FTER  blossoming  profusely  throughout 
latter  June  and  the  first  half  of  July, 
the  Japanese  honeysuckle,  as  if  to  em- 
phasize its  attractions,  again  bursts  into  delicious 
bloom  during  late  August  and  September.  The 
tiger-lilies  have  been  constant  through  late  July 
until  late  August,  when  most  of  the  species  have 
passed.  But  the  crowning  glot^r  of  the  lilies  is 
auratum.  which  extends  its  blossoming  period 
throughout  August  and  September,  no  species  of 
the  genus  being  so  continuous  to  blossom.  The 
odors  of  Loniccra  Halleana  and  Lilium  aura- 
turn  are  not  unlike,  and  numerously  planted  in 
front  of  the  verandas  they  flood  the  whole  house 
with  perfume  in  the  evening.  A  beautiful  flower 
becomes  doubly  beautiful  when  it  prolongs  the 
usual  flowering  season,  and,  judged  by  this 


276  rte  Barton's  .Store. 

standard,  both   the  Japanese  honeysuckle   and 
golden-banded  lily  deserve  our  warmest  praise. 

Some  of  the  roses  also  are  flowering  for  the 
second  time.  Among  them  I  mark  especially 
Marguerite  de  St.  Amande,  Marshall  P.  Wilder, 
and  Paul  Neyron.  With  them  the  following 
may  be  named  as  among  the  most  free-blooming 
autumnal  sorts:  Comtesse  de  Serenye,  Rev.  J. 
B.  M.  Camm,  Boieldieu,  Francois  Michelon, 
Mabel  Morrison,  Louis  Van  Houtte,  La  Reine, 
John  Hopper,  Baroness  Rothschild,  Baron  Pre- 
vost,  Countess  of  Oxford,  Eugenie  Verdier,  Marie 
Beaumann,  Victor  Verdier,  Hippolyte  Jamain, 
Horace  Vernet. 

Very  companionable  during  August  and  Sep- 
tember are  the  althaeas,  almost  the  only  flower- 
ing shrubs  blossoming  at  this  time.  In  the  rear 
garden  there  is  a  swarm  of  bright  flowering  an- 
nuals—petunias, verbenas,  calendulas,  escholt- 
zias,  nasturtiums,  and  marigolds.  Herrick  tells 
how  marigolds  came  yellow : 

Jealous  girls  these  sometimes  were 

While  they  lived  or  lasted  here  : 

Turned  to  flowers,  still  they  be 

Yellow  markt  for  jealousie. 

This  may  apply  to  the  orange-colored  kinds,  not 
to  the  big  double  lemon-yellows,  too  handsome 
to  be  jealous  of  any  flowers  of  their  color. 


JFIotoers  anti  Voices.      277 


For  weeks  there  has  been  a  notable  absence 
of  bird-voices.  The  English  sparrows  are  for 
the  most  part  on  a  vacation  to  the  grain-fields. 
The  songsters  are  almost  silent  save  the  con- 
stant wood-pewee,  who,  however,  only  utters  the 
first  two  notes  of  his  plaintive  cry.  His  is  a 
haunting,  melodious  strain  I  should  sadly  miss 
from  the  copse  and  garden.  The  ornithologists 
describe  his  voice  very  variously.  Coues  speaks 
of  the  "  sobbing  of  the  little  somber-colored 
bird  "  ;  Wilson  places  him  "  amid  the  gloom  of 
the  woods,  calling  out  in  a  feeble,  plaintive  voice 
'  peto-way,  peto-way,  peto-way  '  "  ;  Langille  terms 
his  notes  "  a  slow,  tender,  and  somewhat  melan- 
choly whistle,  '  pe-wee  '"  ;  Flagg  refers  to  his 
"  feeble  and  plaintive  note  "  ;  Trowbridge,  in  his 
poem,  interprets  his  song,  "  Pe-wee  !  pe-wee  ! 
peer  !  "  Burroughs  alone  rightly  describes  it  as 
"a  sweet,  pathetic  cry."  It  is,  in  addition,  a  cry 
of  considerable  volume  and  penetration,  its  sweet- 
ness masking  its  real  force,  always  plaintive,  and, 
when  the  full  strain  is  delivered,  wonderfully 
effective  at  the  close.  I  -can  not  discern  any- 
thing resembling  "  pe-wee  "  in  either  call  or  re- 
sponse unless  it  be  in  late  summer.  It  sounds 
distinctly  ivhe-il  whe  ;  ivhee  u. 

The  common  pe-wee  or  phcebe-bird  pos- 
sesses no  such  subtle  charm.  He  never  tires  of 


278  Cije  CSarten's  Storn. 

reiterating  the  two  notes  of  his  refrain.  It  some- 
times tires  the  listener,  however,  and  a  misogy- 
nist might  wonder  if  it  is  not  the  female  who 
sings. 

To  compensate  for  the  silence  of  the  birds, 
the  insect  world  is  shrilling  con  amore  night  and 
day.  So  many  instruments  compose  the  or- 
chestra that  one  is  puzzled  to  place  all  the  per- 
formers. Loudest  of  all  is  the  cicada's  great 
crescendo,  overpowering  the  strumming  of  grass- 
hoppers and  droning  of  diurnal  crickets.  The 
shrill  of  the  common  black  cricket,  produced  by 
rubbing  his  legs  sharply  together,  consists  of 
three  notes  in  rhythm,  and  is  said  to  form  always 
a  triplet  in  the  key  of  B.  Night  is  the  morning 
of  the  green  leaf-cricket's  day.  At  twilight  or  late 
afternoon  he  begins  his  even-song  in  strong,  well- 
modulated  notes,  chanting  continuously  until 
daylight.  His  chorus  it  is  we  hear  so  steadily, 
commencing  briskly  in  August,  and  uttered,  now 
fast,  now  slowly,  according  to  the  warmth  or 
coolness  of  the  night.  His  voice  is  extremely 
deceptive,  appearing  to  proceed  from  almost  any 
place  except  the  vine  or  tree  overhead.  A  plaint- 
ive, soothing  song  he  sings,  a  song  in  keeping 
with  the  season,  pulsating  with  every  change 
from  heat  to  cold,  and  finally  subsiding  to  a 
scarcely  audible  sob  in  late  October. 


JFlotoers  anto  Uofces.      279 


In  the  fields  Grylltadcz  innumerable  are  loud 
with  song.  Listening  to  the  melody  of  their 
countless  wings,  strange  it  seems  that  their 
transitory  existence  is  but  the  enactment  in  an- 
other world  of  the  passions  and  jealousies  of  our 
own  ;  that  their  allegro  of  stridulous  sound  is 
but  an  expression  of  the  fierce  rivalry  of  males  ; 
that  the  grasshopper's  voice  proceeds  from  a 
stamping-ground  of  strife,  and  the  "  crink-crink  " 
of  crickets  is  largely  the  declaration  of  jealousy 
and  hate. 

From  the  raspberry-vines  rises  a  dreamy, 
summery  voice,  continuous  during  the  day  and 
not  unfrequent  during  the  night,  proceeding 
from  one  of  the  small  climbing  crickets.  Up  go 
the  long  antennas  and  gauzy  wings,  and  a  pro- 
longed 

"  Cree-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e  " 
trembles  upon  the  air.  This  is  CEcanthus  fas- 
ciatus,  one  of  the  pleasantest  of  insect-choris- 
ters. How  his  delicate  wings  withstand  the 
constant  scraping  they  do,  and  how  they  can 
produce  such  a  clear,  bell-like  sound,  seems  in- 
conceivable. Like  the  green  leaf-cricket,  he  is  an 
accomplished  ventriloquist.  One  of  these,  hav- 
ing escaped  from  confinement,  and  singing  un- 
ceasingly, led  me  a  twenty  minutes'  search  ere  I 
could  locate  his  precise  whereabouts  from  the 


280  fffte  ^artirn's  .Storn. 


song,  which  seemed  everywhere  but  the  exact 
spot  whence  it  proceeded.  There  is  another  in- 
sect, not  a  troubadour,  who  adds  his  harsh  note 
to  the  orchestration  of  the  hot  nights  of  mid- 
summer and  early  fall.  His  stridulation  pos- 
sesses the  characteristic  rasping  of  the  katydid 
tribe,  but  is  less  intense.  On  cool  nights  he  is 
silent,  but  as  soon  as  the  nights  become  warm 
he  commences  to  file  his  saw  until  dawn. 

Of  all  familiar  insect  sounds,  the  voice  of  the 
cicada  is  the  strongest,  that  of  CEcanthusfascia- 
tus  the  most  summery,  the  green  leaf-cricket's  the 
most  plaintive,  and  the  katydid's  the  harshest. 
The  general  effect  of  all  these  minstrels,  save 
that  of  the  katydid,  is  a  soothing  one.  The 
bird-songs  of  spring  are  happy,  merry,  buoyant, 
I  may  say,  wakeful — a  triumphant  major  of 
song.  The  insect-chorus  of  fall  is  an  ode  rather 
than  a  lyric — a  song  pitched  in  a  minor  key, 
rising  and  falling  amid  the  lengthening  shadows 
and  gathering  haze  of  autumn. 

Latter  midsummer  and  early  fall  bring  a 
fresh  color-surprise  to  the  garden.  It  is  the  sea- 
son of  the  phloxes,  tritomas,  helianthuses,  the 
great  hydrangeas,  the  Japanese  anemones,  and 
the  stately  autumnal  flowers — the  gathering  and 
concentration  of  months  of  warmth  and  sun- 
shine. One  expects  much  of  the  late  flora,  it 


l&fDsummer  JFlotoers  antr  Vofces.      281 

has  been  so  long  about  its  task.  Less  of  grace 
and  tenderness  it  possesses  than  that  of  spring, 
but  greater  strength  of  stalk,  and  more  of  bold- 
ness and  virility.  The  phlox,  a  genus  exclusive- 
ly North  American,  constitutes,  in  the  large  gar- 
den species,  one  of  our  most  varied  and  valuable 
hardy  perennials.  America  has  furnished  the 
phloxes,  Europe  has  hybridized  them ;  the  gar- 
den perennial  phlox,  as  it  is  now  perfected,  hav- 
ing originated  from  the  tall-growing  P.  panicu- 
lata  and  its  varieties,  and  the  lower-growing 
P.  maculata.  That  such  brilliant  varieties  as 
"  Lothair,"  and  some  others,  are  the  result  of  a 
cross  with  P.  Drummondii,  would  not  seem 
improbable.  The  decussata  class  embraces  the 
taller-growing  varieties,  the  suffruticosa  the 
smaller. 

The  hybridized  phlox  has  its  own  gamut  of 
colors,  like  the  hybridized  azalea— hues  and  tints 
possessed  by  no  other  flower.  These  glowing 
shades  of  salmon,  rose,  and  vermilion,  together 
with  the  numerous  pure  white  and  creamy-white 
varieties,  are  the  more  striking  from  the  grand 
flower-trusses  and  the  tall  stalks  upon  which 
they  are  placed.  The  phlox  may  be  termed  a 
necessary  garden-flower.  It  is  easy  to  grow,  of 
hardy,  vigorous  habit,  and  there  is  no  other 
perennial  to  supply  its  place.  The  largest  truss- 
19 


282  £f)e  ©?artien'»  Storn. 

es  are  produced  on  two-  and  three-year-old 
plants.  Renewal  in  some  soils  becomes  neces- 
sary every  few  years.  Where  it  thrives,  how- 
ever, the  magnificent  head  of  bloom  carried  by 
an  old  plant  is  far  more  showy  than  the  few 
larger  trusses  of  a  younger  one.  Pinching  or 
cutting  back  the  shoots  in  early  June  will  render 
it  autumnal  flowering,  and  by  thus  treating  a 
portion  of  the  plants  the  flowering  season  may 
be  largely  prolonged. 

There  is  another  advantage  from  pinching 
some  of  the  plants  :  if  the  weather  be  unusually 
hot  and  dry  during  August,  so  as  to  cause  poor 
flowering,  the  retarded  plants  will  almost  always 
have  the  advantage  of  cooler  weather  to  flower. 
Pinching,  however,  is  done  at  the  expense  of  the 
size  of  the  truss  ;  where  large  trusses  are  an 
especial  object,  at  least  half  of  the  stalks  should 
be  cut  out.  The  phlox  needs  abundant  moist- 
ure during  its  florescence,  and  likes  rich  soil. 
Some  phloxes,  particularly  the  whites,  are  sub- 
ject to  mildew  in  certain  soils  and  during  certain 
seasons.  But  the  great  enemy  of  the  phlox  is 
the  larval  grub  of  the  big  May  beetle,  with 
whom  the  roots  of  this  plant  are  an  especial 
favorite.  His  presence  may  be  detected  by  the 
sickly  appearance  of  the  plant — a  knowledge 
that  usually  comes  too  late.  Young  plants 


jFlotoers  anti  Vofces.      283 


should  be  immediately  lifted,  the  grubs  de- 
stroyed, and  the  plants  replanted  in  fresh  earth. 
Old  phloxes  being  impatient  of  removal,  there  is 
seldom  any  remedy  when  they  are  thus  attacked. 
There  are  very  many  beautiful  varieties  of  the 
tall-growing  perennial  phlox,  varying  more  or 
less  in  strength  of  stalk,  size  of  trusses,  and 
length  of  time  the  plant  continues  in  vigor. 
Among  the  desirable  kinds  which  are  due  to  the 
skill  of  the  hybridizer,  it  may  be  well  to  specify 
some  of  the  most  vigorous  and  distinct,  the 
extended  catalogue  lists  being  somewhat  con- 
fusing to  the  amateur.  For  the  phlox,  like 
numerous  other  florists'  flowers,  is  not  without 
crying  colors,  its  purples  and  rose-purples  in 
particular  being  generally  objectionable.  Of  the 
whites,  which  are  indispensable  to  set  off  the 
hues  of  their  companions,  queen  of  the  whites 
and  Vi£rge  Marie  are  the  best,  the  latter  being 
a  taller  grower,  later  to  blossom,  and  better 
withstanding  hot  sun.  Of  the  light-colored 
varieties  Richard  Wallace,  white  with  violet 
center,  and  Premier  Ministre,  white  with  rose 
center,  are  among  the  strongest  growers,  and 
produce  the  finest  trusses.  Of  the  lighter  reds 
perhaps  the  most  distinct  are  Gambetta,  Madame 
Lechurval,  R£ve  d'Or,  L'Avenir,  and  Lothair, 
the  latter  the  most  brilliant  of  the  salmon-colored 


284  £te  Barton's 


forms,  and  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  flowers. 
Parrai,  recently  sent  out,  is  the  finest  of  the  rose- 
colored  type,  while  Oberon  still  remains  the  finest 
deep  red. 

The  great  Chinese  plume-poppy  (Bocconza 
cordata)  is  a  very  handsome  late  -  flowering 
plant.  It  attains  a  height  of  nine  feet,  and  the 
large  terminal  flower-panicles  and  tropical  oval- 
cordate  leaves  are  extremely  graceful  and  showy. 
But  it  is  a  rambler  at  the  root,  and  must  have  a 
place  where  the  suckers  will  not  cause  trouble. 
It  is  not  a  safe  plant  for  the  border  or  the  lawn 
on  this  account,  where  otherwise  it  would  be 
highly  ornamental. 

The  Japanese  Polygonum  cuspidatum  is  an- 
other grand  herbaceous  plant  that  is  tempting  to 
employ,  but  which  he  who  is  wise  in  his  genera- 
tion will  avoid.  Once  established,  it  becomes  a 
horrible  nightmare,  and  I  doubt  if  there  exists 
among  hardy  plants  a  more  troublesome  subject 
to  banish.  My  experience  has  been  confined  to 
a  colony  in  my  neighbor's  garden,  close  to  the 
division-line,  that  from  year  to  year  extended  its 
deep-rooting  suckers  farther  and  farther  on  to 
the  lawn  and  borders.  I  shudder  now  when  I 
think  of  the  digging  and  trenching  and  under- 
mining and  the  barrels  of  salt  it  has  required  to 
prevent  its  intrusions. 


^ttftrsummec  jFIotoers  antt  Voices.      285 

I  mentioned  this  pest  to  a  friend  noted  for 
his  marvelous  knowledge  of  hardy  plants,  and 
for  his  splendid  garden  at  Edge  Hall,  Cheshire. 
For  once  he  was  caught  napping,  and  opened 
his  garden-gate  to  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing. 
"  I  was  younger  than  I  am  now,"  he  remarked, 
with  a  smile  illuminating  his  splendid  face,  "  and 
have  had  fifteen  years'  experience  with  Polygo- 
num  cuspidatum.  It  established  itself  in  one 
part  of  my  garden  so  that  it  has  kept  me  busy 
fighting  it  for  years ;  and  a  man  still  works  half 
a  day  every  fortnight  in  the  vain  attempt  to 
eradicate  it." 

A  fine,  old-fashioned  flower  is  the  white  day- 
lily  (Funkia  grandiflord),  with  pure  white,  fra- 
grant blossoms  during  August  and  September — 
a  flower  almost  too  common  and  well  appre- 
ciated to  need  specification.  The  curled-leaved 
variety  of  the  common  tansy  (Tanacetum  vul- 
gare,  var.  crispum)  is  well  worthy  a  place  in 
the  flower  or  shrubbery  border.  Its  scented 
leaves  are  refreshing  to  smell  as  you  pass,  and 
are  as  beautifully  curled  as  the  fronds  of  the 
crisped  hart's-tongue  fern.  I  had  almost  over- 
looked the  garden  thyme,  now  forming  great 
cushions  on  the  rock-work.  It  is  aptly  named 
from  thumos— courage,  strength — the  smell  of 
thyme  being  reviving.  The  variegated-leaved 


286  fftje  Garten's  Storj. 

varieties — the  gold-  and  silver-leaved — are  the 
most  desirable,  always  elegant  in  the  rock-gar- 
den or  flower-border.  A  singular  flower  at  this 
season  is  that  of  one  of  the  tobacco-plants  (Nico- 
tiana  affinis),  which  opens  its  long,  pale  trumpet 
in  the  evening,  exhaling  a  rich  odor  like  that  of 
the  petunia.  This  scent  it  withholds  during  the 
day.  When  cut,  the  flowers  remain  open  in 
the  house,  scentless  during  the  day,  and  becom- 
ing odorous  at  night.  The  plant  itself,  an  an- 
nual, can  scarcely  be  considered  ornamental,  and 
its  leaves  are  a  great  favorite  of  the  potato-bug. 
But  at  dusk  the  numerous  long-tubed  white 
flowers  are  very  conspicuous  and  striking,  and 
it  well  merits  a  place  in  the  rear  garden  for  cut- 
ting purposes.  Nicotiana  tabacum,  the  culti- 
vated tobacco,  and  its  varieties,  are  fine  tropical- 
looking  plants,  with  huge  leaves,  that  may  be 
employed  to  excellent  advantage  as  foliage- 
plants,  in  company  with  the  eulalias,  and  the 
taller  growing  grasses  and  rushes.  But,  being 
annuals  and  tender,  they  require  to  be  raised 
from  seed  sown  early  in  the  spring.  The  even- 
ing primrose  is  likewise  a  curious  flower,  lighting 
its  pale-yellow  lamps  in  the  evening  and  extin- 
guishing them  by  day.  The  flowers  open  audi- 
bly, the  expanding  of  the  corolla  being  charac- 
terized by  a  peculiar  sound  as  the  flowers  pop 


JFlotoers  anti  ITofces.      287 


open.  Besides  the  common  evening  primrose 
(CEnothera  biennts),  a  troublesome  weed  in 
many  States,  there  are  numerous  other  species 
to  which  garden  space  may  well  be  accorded. 
The  larger  flowered  variety  of  biennis,  called 
.grandiflora,  is  to  be  preferred  to  the  type,  (E. 
fruticosa,  and  its  varieties  grow  from  one  and  a 
half  to  three  feet  high,  and  are  abundant  bloom- 
ers with  smaller,  bright-yellow  flowers.  CE. 
speciosa,  a  fine  species  of  Arkansas  and  Texas, 
and  a  dvvarfer  form,  bears  numerous  large  white 
blossoms  passing  to  rose.  CE.  Missouriensis,  a 
Western  species  remarkable  for  the  size  of  its 
flowers  and  fruit,  is  a  small-growing  form  well 
adapted  for  rock-work,  with  vivid  golden-yellow 
blooms  appearing  from  July  to  October.  The 
evening  primrose  is  far  better  known  in  English 
gardens  than  it  is  at  home.  Its  color,  fragrance, 
and  free-flowering  habit  render  it  a  desirable 
plant  of  late  summer,  when  it  is  grown  in  rich 
soil.  Only  some  of  the  species  are  nocturnal, 
though  most  of  them  are  more  odorous,  and 
open  more  fully  in  the  evening.  All  the  tall- 
growing  kinds  seed  freely,  and  are  readily  grown 
from  seed. 

August  and  September  are  the  months  of  the 
sunflowers,  or  Heltanthece,  named  from  helios, 
the  sun,  and  anthos,  a  flower,  from  the  errone 


288  Ct)e  Barton's 


ous  but  common  opinion  that  the  flowers  always 
turn  their  faces  toward  the  sun.  The  appella- 
tion is  appropriate,  notwithstanding;  for  there 
are  few  brighter,  more  sun-loving  flowers  than 
this  extensive  tribe  of  the  composites.  The  spe- 
cies grow  mostly  from  four  to  twelve  feet  high, 
and  are  characterized  by  their  large,  showy,  yel- 
low flowers,  the  largest  being  H.  annuus,  the 
well-known  Peruvian  annual.  The  Helianthus 
is  coarser  than  numerous  other  garden  favorites  ; 
and  while  many  of  the  species  undoubtedly  are 
better  adapted  for  the  wild  garden,  there  are 
still  a  number  well  deserving  a  place  in  the 
flower-border  and  shrubbery.  To  combine  size, 
hardiness,  and  luxuriant  bloom,  one  must  some- 
times put  up  with  coarseness  ;  and  any  weedy 
appearance  of  the  perennial  sunflowers  is  more 
than  atoned  for  by  the  gayety  many  of  the  spe- 
cies impart  to  the  garden  at  a  time  when  they 
are  really  required.  To  the  sub-tribe  of  the 
Helianthea,  included  in  the  tribe  Asteroidea, 
belong  also  the  Heliopsis,  Rudbeckia,  Echina- 
cea,  and  Coreopsis,  mostly  perennials  in  the  style 
of  Helianthus.  From  all  of  these  we  have  a 
great  mass  of  yellow  autumnal  blossom  not  to 
be  dispensed  with.  All  the  sunflowers  grow 
well  in  any  common  garden  soil,  most  of  them 
being  easily  raised  from  seed,  while  many  read- 


jJ&fDsummer  jflotoers  anto  Voices.      289 

ily  form  hybrids.  Even  the  big  annual  deserves 
a  space  somewhere  in  the  rear  garden,  and 
merits  the  encomium  of  Clare  : 

Sunflowers,  planted  for  their  gilded  show, 
That  scale  the  lattice  windows  ere  they  blow. 

In  the  mythology  of  the  ancient  Peruvians  it 
occupied  an  important  place,  and  was  employed 
as  a  mystic  decoration  in  ancient  Mexican  sculpt- 
ure. Like  the  lotus  of  the  East,  it  is  equally  a 
sacred  and  an  artistic  emblem,  figuring  in  the 
symbolism  of  Mexico  and  Peru,  where  the  Span- 
iards found  it  rearing  its  aspiring  stalk  in  the 
fields,  and  serving  in  the  temples  as  a  sign  and 
a  decoration,  the  sun -god's  officiating  hand- 
maidens wearing  upon  their  breasts  representa- 
tions of  the  sacred  flower  in  beaten  gold.  Nu- 
merous varieties  of  the  great -disked  sunflower 
exist.  It  is  the  art  of  the  gardener  to  know 
how  to  place  them.  I  turn  to  old  Gerarde  to 
find  him  an  enthusiast  over  the  great  flower  of 
gold.  His  cultural  directions  still  hold  good  : 
"The  seed  must  be  set  or  sowne  in  the  begin- 
ning of  Aprill,  if  the  weather  be  temperate,  in 
the  most  fertile  ground  that  may  be,  and  where 
the  sun  hath  most  power  the  whole  day."  And 
where  is  the  florist  or  botanist  who  can  paint  the 
marigold  of  Peru  as  vividly  as  it  was  etched  in 


290  £1)e  gJarticn's  -Ston;. 

the  "  Great  Herball,"  or  "  The  History  of  Plants," 
nearly  three  centuries  ago  ?  Almost  all  of  Ge- 
rarde's,  as  also  most  of  Culpepper's  icons  of 
plants,  are  models  of  their  kind,  bringing  the 
plant  before  one,  not  only  truthfully,  but  pictur- 
esquely. You  see  its  form  and  color,  savor  its 
fragrance,  become  acquainted  with  its  virtues — 
you  fairly  see  the  plant  grow  and  the  flowers 
expand.  The  page  was  ampler  in  the  days  of 
the  colon  and  the  tall  folio,  the  margin  for  em- 
broidery wider,  and  author  and  reader  were  less 
hurried.  To-day,  after  the  lapse  of  centuries, 
the  descriptions  stand  out  with  the  vividness  of 
an  old  copper-plate  proof.  The  reader  who  has 
had  the  patience  to  follow  me,  and  who  does  not 
know  him,  will  be  interested  in  a  typical  descrip- 
tion by  Gerarde :  "  The  Indian  Sun  or  the  golden 
floure  of  Peru  is  a  plant  of  such  stature  and  tal- 
nesse  that  in  one  Sommer  being  sowne  of  a 
seede  in  Aprill,  it  hath  risen  up  to  the  height  of 
fourteen  foot  in  my  garden,  where  one  floure 
was  in  weight  three  pound  and  two  ounces,  and 
crosse  overthwart  the  floure  by  measure  sixteen 
inches  broad.  The  stalkes  are  upright  and 
straight,  of  the  bignesse  of  a  strong  mans  arme, 
beset  with  large  leaves  even  to  the  top,  like  unto 
the  great  Clot  Bur:  at  the  top  of  the  stalke 
cometh  forth  for  the  most  part  one  floure,  yet 


iflotoers  anti  Vofces.      291 


many  times  there  spring  out  sucking  buds,  which 
come  to  no  perfection  :  this  great  floure  is  in 
shape  like  to  the  Cammomil  floure,  beset  round 
about  with  a  pale  or  border  of  goodly  yellow 
leaves  in  shape  like  the  leaves  of  the  floures  of 
white  Lillies  :  the  middle  part  whereof  is  made 
as  it  were  of  unshorn  velvet  or  some  curious 
cloth  wrought  with  the  needle  ;  which  brave 
worke  if  you  do  thorowly  view  and  marke  well, 
it  seemeth  to  be  an  innumerable  sort  of  small 
floures,  resembling  the  nose  or  nozell  of  a  can- 
dlesticke,  broken  from  the  foot  thereof:  from 
which  small  nozell  sweateth  forth  excellent  fine 
and  cleere  Turpentine,  in  sight,  substance,  savour, 
and  taste.  The  whole  plant  in  like  manner  be- 
ing broken,  smelleth  of  Turpentine  :  when  the 
plant  groweth  to  maturitie,  the  floures  fal  away, 
in  place  whereof  appeareth  the  seed,  blacke,  and 
large,  much  like  the  seed  of  Gourds,  set  as 
though  a  cunning  workeman  had  of  purpose 
placed  them  in  very  good  order,  much  like  the 
honiecombes  of  Bees  :  the  root  is  white,  com- 
pact of  many  strings,  which  perish  at  the  first 
approach  of  winter."  What  more  could  be  said 
of  the  plant  he  is  depicting,  unless  by  the  bees 
who  draw  nearer  to  the  heart  of  the  flower  than 
we  ?  And  who  could  depict  it  half  so  well  ! 
Plant-knowledge  is  assuredly  more  accurate  since 


292  STtoe  (SfarUen's  Storp. 

the  Linnasan  and  natural  systems,  but  plant-study 
isn't  half  so  picturesque  as  it  was  when  the  old 
masters  held  the  magnifying-glass.  And,  after 
all,  who  will  object  to  an  error  when  the  picture 
is  so  artistically  painted  ?  Is  not  a  misnumbered 
page  a  charm  of  an  Elzevir?  There  are  some 
much  smaller  ornamental  annuals  than  the  large 
Peruvian  species,  but  so  many  superior  forms  of 
perennials  exist,  that  the  former  are  scarcely 
worth  the  trouble  of  growing. 

Among  the  earliest  of  the  perennial  sun- 
flowers is  the  showy  ox-eye  (Heh'opsis  Icrvis), 
frequent  along  streams  and  banks,  where  its  nu- 
merous yellow  flowers  form  vast  golden  stream- 
ers during  August,  conspicuous  from  a  great 
distance.  At  nearly  the  same  time  Helianthus 
divaricatus  peoples  the  thickets  and  meadows 
— a  brilliant  lemon-yellow  flower.  Later  comes 
H.  decapetalus,  the  blossom  not  unlike  the  pre- 
ceding, but  the  plant  more  bushy  and  more 
numerous  flowered.  H.  multiflorus  bears  showy 
yellow  heads,  there  being  a  major  variety  of 
this  superior  to  the  type.  The  double  form  (H. 
tn.flore-plenus),  much  seen  in  gardens,  is  among 
the  most  conspicuous  of  perennials,  carrying  a 
huge  sheaf  of  golden  bloom,  the  large  double 
flowers  remaining  long  in  perfection.  H.  mul- 
tiflorus  increases  very  fast,  a  small  root  set  out 


iFlotoers  anto  Vofces.      293 


in  early  spring  forming  a  large  bush  by  August. 
The  flowers  are  always  larger  on  young  plants  ; 
after  the  second  year  they  diminish  in  size,  when 
the  plants  should  be  divided.  Rudbeckta  hirta, 
the  orange-daisy  of  the  fields,  would  be  desirable 
were  it  not  so  common  a  weed.  R.  speciosa  or 
Newmant  is  a  preferable  form,  being  a  stronger 
plant,  and  less  straggling  in  habit.  R.  nttida,  a 
taller-growing  plant,  is  one  of  the  best  of  its 
class,  extremely  showy  in  masses,  though  it  lacks 
the  dark  contrasting  cone  that  characterizes  the 
other  forms  specified. 

Much  resembling  some  of  the  perennial  sun- 
flowers is  Stlphzum  perfoliatum,  one  of  the  sev- 
eral coarse,  tall-growing  rosin-plants,  flowering 
in  July  and  August.  It  has  huge  leaves,  great 
clusters  of  large  lemon-yellow  blossoms,  and 
grows  seven  to  ten  feet  high.  For  stately  and 
brilliant  effect  it  has  no  rival  during  latter  Au- 
gust, forming  a  golden  cloud  of  flower,  the  more 
striking  from  its  tall  stalks  and  deep  -green 
foliage.  The  most  remarkable  of  the  genus  is 
S.  lactntatum,  the  compass-plant  of  the  prairies, 
which  is  said  to  have  the  peculiarity  of  turning 
the  edges  of  its  lower  leaves  north  and  south, 
but  this  is  not  noticed  in  cultivation.  This 
grows  from  eight  to  twelve  feet  high,  having 
large  yellow  flowers  and  immense  leaves.  Other 


294  £tie  Gfarfcrn's  <Stort>. 

species  are  aster  icust  integrifolium,  trifolia- 
tum,  terebinthinaceum,  and  asperrimum,  all 
with  yellow  flowers,  and  albiflorum,  with  white 
flowers.  The  proper  place  for  most  of  the 
Silphiums  is  the  rear  garden,  or  the  edge  of  a 
distant  shrubbery,  in  masses.  But  S.  perfolia- 
tum  is  always  worthy  of  a  topmost  seat  in  the 
garden  synagogue,  when  in  bloom.  The  He- 
leniums  are  tall-growing  plants,  with  large  yel- 
low or  orange  flowers,  similar  to  Rudbeckia.  H. 
autumnale,  the  most  common  of  the  genus,  is  a 
conspicuous  plant,  growing  from  two  to  three 
feet  high.  //.  Hoopesi  is  a  coarse  plant,  grow- 
ing three  to  four  feet  high,  flowering  in  August 
and  September.  The  flowers  are  showy,  pro- 
duced in  umbels ;  the  color  of  rays  and  disk  is 
uniform  bright  orange.  H.  pumilum  is  the 
smallest  and  perhaps  the  poorest  of  the  genus, 
none  of  which  take  the  place  of  the  Helianthus 
or  some  of  the  Silphiums, 

Helianthus  rigidus,  generally  known  as  Har- 
palium  rigidum,  is  a  very  striking  early  species, 
with  large,  brilliant,  dark-yellow  flowers.  It  is 
the  lowest-growing  of  the  genus,  not  exceeding 
four  feet  in  height.  Its  habit  is  to  run  much  at 
the  root,  and  therefore  it  soon  becomes  trouble- 
some in  the  flower-border.  But  it  should  not  be 
neglected  on  this  account,  and  a  place  should  be 


jf&fOsummer  JFlotoers  anto  Vofces.      295 

found  for  it  where  it  will  have  room  to  make  its 
bright  midsummer  display.  The  Echinacea,  or 
cone-flower,  on  account  of  the  large  heads  of 
purple  produced  by  E.  purpurea  and  E.  angus- 
tifolia,  is  worth  growing.  Coreopsis  lanceolata 
is  the  finest  of  its  genus,  although  C.  grandi- 
flora,  C.  pubescens,  and  C.  auriculata  are  not 
unlike  it.  C.  verticillata  is  a  small  and  pretty 
species,  with  delicate  foliage  and  numerous  small 
yellow  flowers.  C.  pracox  is  scarcely  worth 
growing,  notwithstanding  it  is  described  as  " cette 
charmante  esphe"  in  the  suave  French  cata- 
logues. Other  fine  Helianthece  are  :  Helianthus 
doronicoides,  H.  strumosus,  H.  orgyalis,  H. 
giganteus,  H.  tuber osus,  and  H.  Maximilian! ; 
the  last  three  growing  from  nine  to  twelve  feet 
high.  H.  giganteus  has  purplish  stems,  rough, 
hairy,  lanceolate,  and  sessile  leaves ;  flowers  two 
and  a  half  inches  across,  abundantly  produced  in 
August.  H.  doronicoides  is  one  of  the  finest  of 
the  sunflowers,  a  large-flowered,  large-leaved, 
tall-growing  species,  with  bright-yellow  blos- 
soms. H.  Maximiliani  requires  a  warm  climate 
to  show  flower,  it  being  the  latest  of  the  genus 
to  blossom. 

At  this  season  spiders  become  very  annoying 
in  the  garden,  weaving  their  webs  among  the 
flowers  and  leaves,  so  as  to  give  an  untidy  ap- 


£t>e  Garden's  .Storn. 


pearance  to  the  shrubs,  vines,  and  flower-bor- 
ders. They  may  serve  some  subtle  purpose  be- 
sides catching  flies,  these  hordes  of  weavers,  big 
and  little,  white  and  brown.  But  their  dust  and 
leaf  and  insect  and  pollen-strewn  shuttles  are 
certainly  unclean.  The  sparrow  will  not  walk 
into  their  parlor,  and  brushing  away  the  webs 
or  drenching  them  with  the  hose  is  merely  tem- 
porary. There  is  but  one  way  to  treat  the  Sep- 
tember spider — to  follow  the  example  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  and  kill  him,  cruel  as  it 
may  appear. 


.floroera  onb  .fruits  of  Autumn. 


LET  the  shadow  advance  upon  the  dial — I  can  watch  it 
with  equanimity  while  it  is  there  to  be  watched.  It  is  only 
when  the  shadow  is  not  there,  when  the  clouds  of  winter 
cover  it,  that  the  dial  is  terrible. 

RICHARD  JEFFERIES,  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  FIELDS. 


20 


XIV. 
FLOWERS  AND   FRUITS  OF  AUTUMN. 


LEAS  ANT  weather  glides  by  so  swiftly 
in  the  garden,  that  September  is  well 
advanced  toward  October  before  we 
realize  that  the  year  has  begun  to  wane,  and  the 
flowers  have  but  a  brief  period  to  stay.  Yet  a 
glance  at  the  border  reveals  no  such  apparent 
consciousness  on  their  part.  June,  with  all  her 
exuberance  of  bloom,  scarcely  contributes  a 
grander  floral  display  than  do  the  stately  flowers 
of  September — the  Helianthea,  the  decussata 
phloxes,  the  perennial  asters,  the  Japanese  anem- 
ones. The  lavish  odors  and  delicate  hues  of 
the  early  season  are  lacking  in  the  later  flowers ; 
a  ripe  brunette  in  yellow  has  come  to  take  the 
place  of  the  fair  young  bride  of  Spring.  A  full 
supply  of  moisture  during  the  first  part  of  the 
month  has  had  a  beneficial  effect  in  prolonging 
the  freshness  of  vegetation.  It  is  only  the  ever- 


300 


increasing  chorus  of  crickets,  the  lengthening 
shadows,  and  an  admonitory  rustling  in  the  fast- 
ripening  leaves  of  the  trees  that  point  inexorably 
to  the  hour  of  the  year. 

For  the  second  time  many  of  the  larkspurs 
are  blossoming.  In  the  rock-garden  the  little 
star-grass,  Viola  pedata  bicolor,  and  the  white 
and  purple  V.  cornuta  simulate  another  spring. 
Campanula  Carpatica  is  covered  with  bloom  ; 
Tunica  saxifraga  has  not  ceased  to  blossom 
since  early  summer,  and  Spiranthes  cernua  re- 
mains the  sweetest  wild  flower  of  September. 
The  Cannas  and  the  great  Japanese  variegated 
grasses  are  just  attaining  their  full  beauty. 
When  planting  Eulalias,  the  smaller-growing 
E.  gracittina  univitata  should  not  be  omitted, 
an  extremely  distinct  and  beautiful  species  with 
wiry,  grass-like  foliage. 

But  the  garden  will  not  take  care  of  itself 
even  now  ;  to  preserve  its  fresh  appearance  the 
knife  must  be  frequently  employed  to  remove 
the  withered  stalks,  and  the  rake  to  collect  the 
fallen  leaves.  Left  to  themselves,  the  borders 
would  already  look  rusty  in  August,  and  remov- 
ing withered  leaves  and  stems  forms  no  small 
portion  of  the  season's  work.  The  stems  of 
many  perennials  should  not  be  cut  down  entire- 
ly ;  they  serve  more  or  less  as  a  protection.  It 


JFlotoers  anti  Jfrufts  of  Autumn.       301 

is  well  to  treat  them  like  the  lily-stems,  and  not 
use  the  knife  on  many  subjects,  except  gradually, 
as  the  stalks  die  down. 

The  coloring  fruits,  and  the  colored  berries  of 
many  of  the  shrubs  look  so  handsome  at  this 
season  they  might  almost  take  the  place  of  flow- 
ers. I  question  if  the  dahlia,  in  all  its  glory,  can 
compare  with  many  of  the  American  crab- 
apples,  or  the  double  Helianthus  hold  more  of 
yellow  gold  than  the  quince-trees  are  coining. 
The  colored  berries  belong  more  truly  to  Octo- 
ber than  to  September ;  they  supply  us  largely 
with  brilliant  reds,  a  color  the  garden  falls  some- 
what short  of  during  the  autumn,  yellows  being 
the  dominant  hues.  The  tall-growing  Helian- 
thus orgyalis,  the  fathom-high  sunflower,  is  a 
late  arrival — a  dark-disked,  golden-yellow  flower, 
that  looks  down  upon  many  of  its  tribe.  One 
never  knows  at  what  elevation  it  will  cease  as- 
cending until  its  sprays  of  blossoms  unfold  in 
late  September.  It  is  a  lively,  medium-sized 
flower,  with  delicate,  long  and  very  narrow  lan- 
ceolate leaves,  possessing  what  no  others  of 
the  HelianthecE  with  which  I  am  familiar  pos- 
sess— a  pleasant  perfume.  Its  stalks,  how- 
ever, are  rather  feeble — they  have  so  high  to 
reach— and  its  effect  is  much  enhanced  by  care- 
ful staking.  It  is  best  placed  in  the  shrubbery, 


302  Cfte  (garden's 


where  it  can  receive  partial  support  from  other 
subjects. 

Formerly  the  dahlia  was  much  more  fre- 
quently seen  than  now.  Of  late  it  is  again  be- 
coming a  favorite,  many  good  singles  and  semi- 
doubles  having  been  added  to  its  numerous 
forms.  The  dahlia  is  a  handsome  old-fashioned 
flower,  always  effective  in  the  shrubbery,  and 
extremely  desirable  for  cutting  when  arranged 
with  its  own  foliage.  Symbolically  it  stands  for 
elegance  and  dignity.  It  might  equally  well  be 
the  type  of  steadfastness,  the  cut  flowers  being 
so  lasting.  None  of  its  classes,  including  edged, 
tipped,  laced,  show,  and  fancy,  are  prettier  than 
the  tall,  pure  white,  red,  and  yellow  pompones. 
Many  other  forms  are  showier,  with  much  larger 
flowers.  The  dahlia  must  be  included  among 
those  flowers  possessing  a  special  scale  of  color, 
notably  its  dark  reds,  merging  from  vermilion 
into  deep  maroon,  and  folded  petals  almost  like 
black  velvet. 

There  are  very  many  fine  forms  and  varieties 
of  the  Canna,  small  and  large,  and  with  light- 
and  dark-colored  foliage.  Principally  planted 
for  its  grand  foliage  effect,  its  brilliant  strelitzia- 
like  flowers  are  highly  ornamental  as  well.  The 
Canna  may  almost  supply  the  place  of  both 
Tritoma  and  gladiolus,  combining,  as  it  does, 


jflotoers  anfc  JFrufts  of  Autumn.       303 

intense  color  of  flower  with  great  beauty  of 
foliage  and  habit.  So  many  species  and  varie- 
ties exist  that  a  list  of  them  would  become 
tedious  and  confusing;  the  wild  forms  number 
nearly  a  hundred,  with  garden  hybrids  and  semi- 
nal varieties  innumerable. 

The  big  phloxes  continue  to  be  the  most  mag- 
nificent flower  of  late  September,  the  pure  white 
"  Vierge  Marie  "  and  the  coppery-red  "  Oberon  " 
showing  superbly  against  a  line  of  light-green  and 
purple-leaved  Cannas.  Above  the  copse  the  sink- 
ing sun  shines  on  the  grand  flower-heads  of  a  long 
row,  and  earlier  and  earlier  every  day  lights  up  the 
red  trusses  with  intenser  fire.  The  position  is  a 
partially  shaded  one,  the  soil  light  sandy  loam 
well  enriched,  the  plants  five  years  old ;  in  this 
position  the  grubs  have  scarcely  troubled  them. 
The  phlox  exhales  a  delicate  yet  pronounced 
odor,  the  sweetest-smelling  flower  of  late  au- 
tumn after  the  auratums  have  passed,  except 
the  fragrant  double  ten-weeks'  stocks  (Mattkzo- 
la  annud),  the  nutty  odor  of  which  it  much  re- 
sembles. The  floral  opposite  of  the  crocus,  the 
hardy  colchicum  or  autumnal  crocus,  is  now  in 
bloom,  its  brilliant  purple  appearing  after  the 
leaves  have  died  down,  reversing  the  order  of 
the  spring  flower  it  resembles.  Or  is  the  col- 
chicum really  the  first  spring  flower,  appear- 


304  Ct)e  ffiarten's  Storn. 

ing  months  before  the  appointed  time  of  its 
sisterhood  ? 

Hydrangea  paniculata  grandiflora  should 
be  a  conspicuous  flower  in  all  gardens  during 
the  autumn  months.  Unfortunately,  it  does  not 
thrive  in  some  soils,  where  it  becomes  a  prey  to 
the  red  spider.  This  species  may  sometimes  be 
seen  in  perfection  in  one  garden  and  worthless 
in  an  adjoining  one.  Apart  from  climatic  influ- 
ences the  failure  of  certain  plants  is  often  puz- 
zling. Much,  I  think,  depends  on  vigorous  sub- 
jects to  start  with.  Many  plants  grown  year 
after  year  by  the  nurseries  in  the  same  soil  seem 
to  become  enfeebled,  or  at  least  to  transmit  a 
feeble  habit  to  their  offspring. 

Situation  likewise  has  much  to  do  with  the 
failure  of  a  plant — too  much  sun,  too  much  shade, 
or  too  much  wind.  Manure  is  frequently  in- 
jurious to  many  plants,  and  grubs  and  insects 
are  more  numerous  in  some  places  than  others. 
Some  soils  dry  out  quickly;  others  lack  some 
essential  element ;  still  others  become  weak  and 
deficient  in  vitality.  Manuring  in  the  latter  case 
may  assist  but  does  not  remedy  the  trouble. 
Working  over  the  soil  by  deep  trenching,  and 
adding  virgin  soil  and  other  elements  that  are 
wanting,  is  perhaps  the  most  effective  and  trouble- 
some way  out  of  the  difficulty.  If  one  could 


JFlotoers  antJ  jfrufts  of  auturinr 


only  change  old  soil  into  new  and  transform  an 
inland  climate  into  a  climate  of  the  sea-coast  at 
will,  how  much  easier  gardening  would  be  !  But 
even  then  there  would  be  too  much  or  too  little 
lime,  or  something  else  would  be  wanting,  I  sup- 
pose —  "  man  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest." 

Pope  was  a  gardener,  of  course.  That  he 
was  passionately  fond  of  gardening  can  not  be 
doubted  in  view  of  his  statement,  as  given  by 
Walpole,  that  of  all  his  works  he  was  most  proud 
of  his  garden.  He  was  a  landscape-gardener 
rather  than  a  floriculturist,  however,  painting 
with  trees  instead  of  flowers  ;  and  when  we  look 
over  the  great  field  of  those  artists  whose  canvas 
was  Nature  herself,  where  shall  we  find  one  who 
possessed  the  flowing,  natural  touch  of  Downing  ? 

A  wild  garden,  what  Bacon  termed  his 
"  heath  or  desert,  framed  as  much  as  may  be  to 
a  natural  wildness,"  is  a  delightful  feature  of  a 
place.  Here  among  autumnal  flowers  belong 
many  of  the  huge  Helianthea,  Silphiums,  large 
starworts,  and  everlastings.  There  being  no 
formality,  it  does  not  matter  so  much  if  the 
plants  become  overcrowded.  The  occasional 
presence  of  golden-rod  will  scarcely  prove  an  in- 
trusion, and  the  wild  rose,  bitter-sweet,  fire- 
weed,  and  clematis  may  be  allowed  to  roam  at 
will.  Such  a  tangle  should,  of  course,  be  placed 


306  fffte  Barton's  Storn. 

in  the  distance,  or  spring  upon  one  unawares. 
We  should  see  more  of  this  "  natural  wildness  " 
in  places  whose  extent  and  natural  features  are 
adapted  to  it,  a  source  of  far  greater  satisfaction 
than  the  flaring  General  Grant  geranium-beds 
that  often  disturb  the  sense  of  repose.  The 
prim  modern  garden,  too,  almost  always  lacks  a 
pleasing  feature  of  the  ancient  garden  when 
rightly  carried  out ;  it  has  so  few  spots  to  lounge 
in.  There  is  a  dearth  of  garden-seats,  niches, 
and  benches,  and  vine-draped  arbors  and  clois- 
tered summer-houses.  And  where  has  the  old 
sun-dial  disappeared,  that  used  to  count  the  time 
so  leisurely  and  shadow  the  passing  hours  ? 

The  equinoctial  has  come  and  passed,  shed- 
ding a  mild  persistent  rain  instead  of  the  frigid 
down-pour  it  often  brings.  It  cleared  off  with  a 
blazing  fire  in  a  cool  western  sky  and  a  mellow 
orange  after-glow.  A  rarer,  more  exhilarating 
air  has  followed  in  its  train,  through  which  the 
first  yellow  streamers  of  the  elms  and  birches 
gleam  like  molten  gold.  There  is  a  richer  color 
on  the  great  hydrangea's  plumes,  a  more  satiny 
whiteness  in  the  chaste  blossoms  of  the  larger 
anemone.  A  few  days  more,  and  the  first  white 
frost  will  settle  upon  the  lowlands — a  white  mist 
rather  than  a  white  frost,  that  must  soon  set  its 
blighting  touch  upon  the  flowers.  If  we  might 


JFlotoers  anti  jfrufts  of  Autumn.        307 

only  store  these  golden  autumn  days  to  draw 
from  during  the  tedious  months  of  winter  when 
the  shadow  is  not  on  the  dial !  The  next  best 
thing  is  a  gracious  autumn  lingering  into  late 
November,  when  the  fire  of  the  year  goes  out  so 
slowly  that  it  seems  still  to  flicker  amid  the  pat- 
tering rime. 

Autumn  is  the  harvest  of  those  flowerless 
plants  par  excellence,  the  fungi,  when  old  past- 
ures and  orchards  and  close  -  cropped  sheep- 
walks  yield  up  their  treasures.  There  can  be 
nothing  pleasanter  at  this  season  than  an  expe- 
dition into  the  country  in  quest  of  the  pink 
mushroom  of  the  pastures.  To  inhale  the  air  is 
in  itself  an  inspiration,  while  road- side  and  lane 
are  brilliant  with  the  fall  flora,  and  grasshoppers 
and  crickets  are  chanting  merrily  in  the  fields. 
Then  there  is  the  excitement  of  pursuit  and  the 
triumph  of  capture.  Mushrooms  are  like  trout 
and  game — they  possess  thrice  the  flavor  where 
you  earn  them  yourself  or  where  they  are  sent 
by  a  friend.  Neither  should  be  purchased  in  the 
market ;  the  bloom  has  been  brushed  off,  the 
freshness  has  fled.  The  mushroom  is  more 
easily  procured  from  the  pastures  than  by  arti- 
ficial open-air  culture.  Like  the  poet,  the  out-of- 
door  culturist  is  born,  not  made,  and,  I  believe, 
must  be  born  an  Englishman.  The  leathery,  in- 


308 


sip'id  buttons  the  French  hatch  out  and  send  us 
from  their  Cimmerian  caves  become  worse  and 
worse  every  year,  like  the  cuts  off  the  tough  Mon- 
tana rangers  they  are  used  to  garnish.  The  large, 
high-flavored  Cep  of  southern  France,  gathered 
like  our  Agaricus  campestris  from  the  open 
fields,  is  quite  another  thing,  and  is  a  prince  of 
esculents  when  prepared  b  la  Bordtlaise.  This 
agaric  is  very  little  known;  it  has  even  been 
overlooked  by  Gouffe  and  Francatelli.  It  may 
be  had  in  good  condition  in  the  can  of  commerce, 
and,  unlike  the  champignon,  is  always  tender 
and  digestible. 

The  common  field  mushroom  itself  is  excel- 
lent a  la  Bordelaise,  and,  for  those  who  do  not 
know  it,  the  recipe  is  worth  quoting  as  a  fragrant 
flower  of  the  table  when  executed  by  a  compe- 
tent hand.  There  is  no  more  expert  guide  than 
fat  old  Baron  Brisse  (requiescat  in  pace).  I 
know  of  none  so  concise  and  explicit  as  the  au- 
thor of  the  "  Petite  Cuisine  "  : 

"  Champignons  &  la  Bordelaise.  —  Choose 
large  and  freshly  gathered  mushrooms  ;  wash, 
peel,  and  dry  them  ;  soak  them  an  hour  and 
a  half  in  fine  olive-oil  with  salt  and  pepper; 
then  place  them  on  the  grill  and  turn  them. 
After  cooking,  dress  them  on  a  platter  and  sauce 
them  with  hot  oil,  to  which  add  finely  chopped 


jFIotoers  anti  grafts  of  Autumn.       309 

parsley  and  young  onions  and  a  modicum  (filef) 
of  vinegar."  Here,  as  is  observed  in  the  recipe 
of  Morilles  a  lltalienne,  "  the  trouble  is  trifling 
and  the  succulence  is  extreme." 

The  crisp  air  of  October  piques  the  appetite, 
and  with  the  advent  of  the  mushroom  season 
one  may  be  excused  from  turning  for  a  moment 
from  the  flowers  to  the  flesh-pots.  There  is  a 
freshness  about  the  '•  Petite  Cuisine "  that  is 
truly  delightful.  Most  of  the  very  numerous 
books  devoted  to  French  cookery  are  so  elaborate 
as  to  be  practically  useless.  Pierre  Blot's  is  an 
exception,  and  did  much  to  simplify  many  dishes 
of  merit.  Baron  Brisse  has  gone  still  further 
and  contributed  a  gastronomic  harmony  that  de- 
serves to  be  translated  into  every  language.  His 
touch  is  so  light ;  his  faults  are  so  few.  Brillat 
Savarin  was  a  cook  of  acknowledged  ability. 
His  "  Physiology  of  Taste,"  however,  is  a  mono- 
graph on  the  merits  and  etiquette  of  gastronomy 
rather  than  a  practical  guide  to  the  preparation 
of  the  dishes  themselves.  Quaintness  and  sim- 
plicity are  one  of  the  charms  of  the  "  Petite 
Cuisine,"  wherein  a  menu  is  given  for  every  day 
in  the  year.  It  is  almost  Lamb  dressed  in  white 
cap  and  mar mz ton  who  presides  at  the  range. 
Spring  comes  to  Baron  Brisse  not  with  the  first 
primroses,  but  with  the  first  peas,  and  autumn 


310  C&e  Garten's  JStorj. 

possesses  no  tinge  of  sadness  so  long  as  it  ushers 
in  the  hunting  season  and  the  spoils  of  the 
covers. 

"Green  peas!  green  peas!"  he  exclaims. 
"  Of  all  street  cries  there  is  none  that  from  base- 
ment to  mansard  so  unanimously  rejoices  the 
hearts  of  all  those  that  hear  it.  Green  peas ! 
green  peas  !  This  is  the  true  spring ;  this  is  one 
of  its  most  adorable  gifts !  " 

He  speaks  of  pigeons  which  join  to  a  touch- 
ing size  an  adorable  savor.  There  are  sixty-two 
ways  of  cooking  them,  he  adds.  "  Some  day  I 
will  give  them  all."  The  lark,  always  a  favorite 
in  France  when  done  to  a  turn,  he  pronounces 
"detestable  when  not  sufficiently  cooked.  If 
cooked  too  much  it  is  still  worse."  A  certain 
cream  whipped  with  strawberries,  of  which  he 
gives  the  recipe,  he  declares  has  left  him  many 
delightful  souvenirs.  Sorely  distressed  is  he  to 
trace  the  origin  of  a  favorite  entrte  —  sweet- 
breads a  la  gendarme.  "  This  grasping  (em- 
poignanf)  noix  de  veau  a  la  gendarme,  is  it  the 
product  of  a  man  of  arms,  cook  at  his  leisure,  or 
of  a  master  named  Gendarme  ?  Will  it  ever  be 
known?  My  researches  in  this  respect  have 
been  in  vain." 

But  while  the  baron  is  happy  in  an  entree, 
he  is  pre-eminent  in  a  piece  de  resistance.  The 


JFlotoers  anfc  Jfrufts  of  Autumn.       311 

fertility  of  his  resources  is  nowhere  better  illus- 
trated than  in  his  resurgam  of  a  leg  of  mutton. 
"  A  roast  leg  of  mutton,"  he  truly  observes, 
"  when  it  is  perfect  as  to  quality,  properly  hung, 
and  properly  cooked,  is  a  gift  from  heaven  ;  but 
one  finds  it  thus  so  rarely.  A  large  gigot  once 
cooked,"  he  continues,  "  is  supposed  by  house- 
keepers to  be  useless  thereafter  unless  served 
cold  or  stewed.  These  ladies  are  mistaken ;  it 
is  easy  to  present  a  leg  of  mutton  on  the  table 
twice  in  the  same  conditions  of  excellence,  and 
as  intact  in  appearance  the  second  time  as  the 
first. 

"  Gigot  de  mouton  rdtt  rtchaujft.  —  The 
gigot  having  been  served  once,  and  carved  hori- 
zontally from  one  side  only,  wrap  it  in  a  piece  of 
buttered  paper  and  place  on  the  spit.  When 
well  heated,  lay  it  on  a  platter  upon  a  generous 
purde  of  potatoes,  the  carved  portion  under- 
neath ;  moisten  gigot  and  purte  with  a  portion 
of  its  juice  which  has  been  kept  in  reserve  and 
heated  without  boiling,  and  serve."  So  much 
of  our  happiness  here  below  depends  upon  the 
cook  and  the  gravy  !  As  in  gardening,  so  in 
cooking — "  Ce  nest  pas  sans  petne  qiion  gagne 
le  ctel!  " 

To  return  to  our  mushrooms.  Quantities  of 
edible  species  exist  in  the  fields  and  woods 


312  rt)e  (Kartell's  Storn. 

throughout  the  summer  and  fall,  if  we  but  knew 
them.  They  go  to  waste  through  our  inability 
to  distinguish  the  false  from  the  true.  The 
Gaul  would  have  trained  hogs  and  dogs  to  find 
them  ;  the  Italian  would  subsist  on  them  in  the 
dried  state  during  winter.  The  silver  spoon  is  a 
good  though  not  always  a  safe  test  to  distin- 
guish them  ;  better  are  the  sweet  odor  and  flavor, 
often  resembling  those  of  the  chestnut,  which 
characterize  many  of  the  edible  species.  Still, 
fungi  are  dangerous  playthings  for  those  not 
thoroughly  experienced  in  gills  and  pilei.  It  is 
perhaps  better  that  we  are  restricted  to  the  field 
mushroom,  than  which  no  native  species  is  more 
delicious,  and  in  identifying  which  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  be  mistaken  unless  one  be  color- 
blind, and  can  not  distinguish  pink  from  orange 
or  saffron. 

Brightest  of  the  autumn  flowers  to  enliven 
the  lanes  and  road-sides  are  the  purple  asters, 
with  the  ever-surging  sea  of  golden-rods,  the 
rambling,  canary-colored  toad-flax  (Linaria  vul- 
garis),  and  an  occasional  pale-yellow  evening 
primrose.  Fields,  meadows,  and  pastures  are 
hoary  with  everlastings,  and  everywhere  wave 
the  white  corymbs  of  the  wild  carrot.  Here  and 
there  a  stony  field  is  sentineled  with  mulleins,  on 
whose  spires  the  goldfinches  have  congregated. 


JFlotoers  anti  jFrufts  of  Autumn.       313 

Along  the  road-side  the  elder-berry's  cymes  have 
been  transformed  to  clusters  of  shining  black 
berries,  and  ripe  scarlet  fruit  shines  through  the 
tarnished  foliage  of  the  thorns. 

The  asters  are  swarming  with  bumble-bees 
and  butterflies — the  small  white  and  yellow  but- 
terflies and  the  larger  orange-blacks,  all  busily 
extracting  a  "last  taste  of  sweets."  I  did  not 
know  the -latter  was  ever  so  late  an  arrival,  or 
that  his  chrysalis  so  resembles  a  Japanese 
watch-charm.  I  found  two  belated  chrysalides 
on  the  raspberry-vines.  The  color  of  the  en- 
velope was  dark  bronze.  Near  one  extremity 
were  two  burnished  silver  knobs  ;  near  the  oth- 
er, a  necklace  of  raised,  shining  gold  and  enam- 
eled beads.  Underneath  the  semi-transparent 
envelope  the  folds  of  the  orange  wings  showed. 
I  found  the  thin  husks  rent  in  twain  the  follow- 
ing morning  in  the  glass  in  which  they  were 
placed,  the  two  perfected  insects  struggling  to 
escape  from  their  narrow  confinement.  Brief  will 
be  their  holiday  in  the  slant  autumnal  sunshine, 
and  "  too  late  "  the  burden  borne  to  them  by  the 
rustling  breeze.  Last  year  there  was  a  storm  of 
these  brilliant  insects  in  a  neighboring  grove,  where 
they  settled  so  numerously  as  to  weigh  down  the 
lesser  limbs.  The  year  previous,  a  similar  oc- 
currence was  noticed  along  the  lake-shore. 
21 


314  £t)e  Garten's 


The  pretty  yellow  flower  you  noticed  a  month 
since  along  the  ditches  and  low  places  is  scarce- 
ly recognizable  now.  A  friend  then,  to  all  out- 
ward appearances,  it  has  turned  to  a  foe,  thrust- 
ing its  javelins  at  whatsoever  crosses  its  path. 
The  bright-yellow  petals  have  disappeared,  the 
green  disk  has  changed  to  rusty  brown  ;  and  the 
larger  burr-  marigold  (Btdens  chrysanthemoides) 
stands  revealed  in  its  true  hideousness  —  an  ugly, 
swarthy  ruffian,  at  once  an  armory  of  halberds, 
arquebuses,  arrows,  and  poniards. 

Finest  of  the  extremely  numerous  asters  that 
follow  one  during  an  autumnal  ramble  are  the 
several  forms  of  A.  Nova  Angltce,  the  large 
purple  starwort  of  the  road-sides,  varying  from 
lavender  and  rosy  purple  to  deep  purple.  It  is 
the  richest  and  one  of  the  gayest  of  the  common 
late  wild  flowers,  and,  common  as  it  is,  is  well 
worth  a  suitable  place  in  the  garden.  It  seldom 
looks  so  well  under  cultivation,  for  the  reason 
that  it  is  seldom  planted  in  sufficient  quantity. 
This  is  equally  the  case  with  most  wildlings  ; 
they  should  be  seen  in  masses,  as  they  oc- 
cur naturally,  to  disclose  their  true  worth. 
"  Enough  "  is  not  "  as  good  as  a  feast  "  when  it 
comes  to  flowers. 

The  late  flowering  characteristic  of  the  peren- 
nial aster  is  one  of  its  many  charms.  G6rarde, 


JFlotoers  anti  JFrufts  of  Autumn.       315 

in  his  "Great  Herball,"  as  long  ago  as  1633,  re- 
fers at  length  to  the  North  American  aster,  two 
species  being  described  by  him  (p.  489),  one  of 
which,  not  previously  mentioned,  he  states  "  is 
to  be  esteemed  for  that  it  floures  in  October 
and  November,  whenas  few  other  floures  are 
to  be  found."  Certainly,  many  of  our  native 
species  exceed  in  beauty  the  species  mentioned 
in  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  "  Georgics  "  (Aster 
amellus,  the  Italian  starwort).  The  classic  ref- 
erence is  altogether  too  pretty  not  to  trans- 
scribe  : 

Est  etiam  flos  in  pratis,  cui  nomen  Amello 
Fecere  agricolae,  facilis  quaerentibus  herba. 
Namque  uno  ingentem  tollit  de  cespite  silvam, 
Aureus  ipse  ;  sed  in  foliis,  quae  plurima  circum 
Fundunter,  violas  sublucet  purpura  nigrae. 

In  Meades  there  is  a  flower  Amello  named, 
By  him  that  seeks  it  easy  to  be  found, 

For  that  it  seems  by  many  branches  fram'd 
Into  a  little  Wood  ;  like  gold  the  ground 

Thereof  appears,  but  leaves  that  it  beset 

Shine  in  the  colours  of  the  Violet. 

I 

So  highly  was  the  aster's  purple  and  gold  es- 
teemed that  the  flowers  were  used  as  offerings 
in  religious  rites,  as  Virgil  specifies  in  his  further 
reference  to  the  Amello. 

Cheerful  and  colorful  are  the  annual  asters  if 


316  Or  (garden's  Storiv 

the  strain  be  choice  and  the  soil  an  unctuous 
loam.  Sown  late  in  May,  so  the  plants  may 
come  into  blossom  during  latter  September  and 
early  October,  they  are  seen  at  their  best.  It 
needs  cool  weather  with  just  a  suspicion  of 
white  frost  to  bring  out  their  colors.  Then, 
when  many  of  the  perennials  are  in  the  sere 
and  yellow  leaf,  they  lend  an  almost  spring-time 
gayety  to  the  garden.  But  here,  as  with  the 
Pyrethrums,  objectionable  shades  must  be  ban- 
ished, and  the  whites,  maroons,  soft  roses,  lilacs, 
lavenders,  and  purples,  placed  so  they  may  har- 
monize and  their  various  lights  may  shine.  They 
are  the  roses  of  autumn,  the  more  beautiful  be- 
cause their  reign  is  so  fleeting.  But  the  an- 
nual aster  is  invariably  sown  too  soon. 

Strikingly  beautiful  are  the  calendulas  during 
October.  Daring  in  their  hues  as  the  zinnea, 
they  never  overstep  the  limits,  and  do  not  at- 
tempt to  mix  up  crimsons  with  yellows.  The 
orange  verging  to  red,  and  the  gradual  shadings 
from  buff  to  yellow  and  salmon  of  the  rays,  are 
a  study  and  a  joy  in  color.  They  last  so  long, 
and  withstand  the  frost  so  bravely,  that  the  rear 
garden  and  the  center-table  would  seem  lonely 
without  them,  and  we  may  freely  forgive  their 
somewhat  acrid  odor.  I  found  a  large  bunch 
of  them  upon  the  table  to-day,  in  a  low,  blue 


anti  jFrufts  of  Autumn.       317 


cloisonne  vase,  the  slanting  afternoon  sun  stream- 
ing full  upon  them  —  an  October  sunset  in  the 
room.  There  should  be  a  shelf  of  vases  to 
choose  from  for  arranging  flowers  —  tall,  flat, 
large,  and  small  ;  the  floral  picture,  too,  calls  for 
its  appropriate  frame. 

Helianthus  tuberosus,  the  Jerusalem  arti- 
choke, shows  a  fine  mass  of  yellow  far  above 
one's  head,  an  erect,  vigorous  grower,  with 
large,  dark-  green  leaves  and  lively  flowers.  In 
its  habit,  and  the  size  and  brilliancy  of  its  blos- 
soms, its  surpasses  H.  gtganteus.  It  comes  late 
into  blossom,  and  defies  the  frost.  This,  with 
many  of  the  taller  species,  as  has  been  stated 
before,  looks  best  in  the  distance  naturalized  in 
large  masses.  They  are  admirably  suited  to 
low  situations,  where  they  can  be  looked  down 
upon  from  an  elevation.  The  tubers  of  H. 
tuberosus  would  be  largely  used  as  an  esculent, 
if  we  had  not  the  potato.  They  have  a  flavor 
somewhat  like  salsify  or  celery-turnip,  and  it 
seems  highly  probable  that  they  were  exten- 
sively employed  by  the  aborigines  as  an  article 
of  food. 

Very  brilliant  are  the  shining  berries  of  many 
of  the  ornamental  shrubs  at  this  season.  The 
large  fruit  of  the  Cornelian  cherry  (Cornus  mas- 
cula},  and  the  corals  of  -the  bush  cranberry 


318  £|)e  Barton's  <&tora?. 

(  Viburnum  opulus),  still  hold  their  color.  Gay 
scarlet  streamers  wave  from  the  common  bar- 
berry bushes.  The  large  flat  cymes  of  the  way- 
faring-tree (  V.  lantanoides)  are  covered  with  red 
drupes,  changing  to  dark-purple,  while  the  foamy 
blossoms  of  the  rough-leaved  Viburnum  (V. 
rugosum)  have  been  succeeded  by  the  showy 
berries  of  fall.  Indeed,  these  shrubs  have  been 
brilliant  with  fruit  ever  since  latter  August. 

I  had  not  meant  to  overlook  the  baneberry, 
attractive  in  May  with  its  spiraea-like  flowers, 
and  bright  throughout  August  and  September 
through  its  ovoid,  oblong,  red  berries.  Two 
varieties  are  worth  cultivating  —  Actcea  alba, 
having  white  berries  with  red  stalks,  and  A. 
spicata  rubra,  bearing  glossy  vermilion  fruit. 
But  the  baneberry  requires  partial  or  nearly 
entire  shade,  and  plenty  of  moisture,  or  the 
leaves  soon  tarnish,  and  give  the  plant  a  withered 
appearance.  It  looks  well  suitably  placed  in  the 
rock-garden,  or  rising  from  the  shrubbery  bor- 
der, or  the  wild  garden.  Nearly  allied  to  the 
baneberry  is  the  black  snake-root  (Cimicifuga 
racemosa).  You  have  noticed  it  when  passing 
along  woods  on  the  railway,  lighting  their  green 
skirts  with  its  tall  white  rockets  of  bloom.  An 
odd,  bold,  and  distinct  flower,  it  is  not  unworthy 
of  culture  despite  the  unpleasant  odor,  whence 


anfc  jfrufts  of  Autumn.       319 


the  species  derives  its  name,  from  cimex,  a  bug, 
and  fugo,  to  drive  away. 

The  vermilion  and  light-red  berries  of  the 
European  and  the  American  mountain  -ash 
(Pyrus  aucuparia  and  P.  Americana)  are  con- 
spicuous at  present.  One  of  the  finest  orna- 
mental trees,  the  mountain-ash,  like  the  linden, 
is  unfortunately  subject  to  attacks  from  borers 
and  ants,  which  eventually  split  the  rind  and 
destroy  the  vitality  of  the  tree.  The  robins  are 
numerous  among  its  branches,  feasting  upon  the 
berries.  Equally  busy  are  they  among  the 
pears,  apples,  and  grapes  —  meat-eaters  in  the 
summer  and  vegetarians  in  the  fall.  The  robin 
has  a  distinct  autumnal  note,  which  I  like  to 
hear  —  a  noisy  call  he  utters  when  about  to 
change  his  perch,  or  preliminary  challenge  to  a 
raid  upon  the  orchards,  as  if  he  knew  he  had  a 
right  to  the  spoils,  and  wanted  his  companions 
to  share  the  feast.  From  the  thickly  foliaged 
thorn,  hung  with  its  scarlet  fruit,  comes  a  soft, 
tender,  caressing  song,  one  of  the  sweetest  of 
the  year  —  a  warble  so  low,  so  sweet,  so  plaintive, 
I  tiptoe  closely  to  the  songster  to  hear  it.  How 
charming  the  cat-bird  can  be  when  he  tries,  and 
how  different  his  dulcet  autumnal  vespers  from 
the  frenzied  "  Czardas  "  he  is  so  fond  of  playing 
in  the  morning  of  the  year  ! 


320  erije  CSarfcen's 


I  know  many  a  man  like  him  —  grouty,  fault- 
finding, storming  in  the  morning  ;  mellow,  ex- 
pansive, delightful  in  the  evening. 

Now  crickets  crink  by  day,  and  the  harping 
of  grasshoppers  ascends  from  the  fields.  Count- 
less unseen  choristers  are  chanting  an  ode  to 
fall  —  the  air  quivers  with  pulsating  sound.  Even 
throughout  the  October  night  the  viol  of  the 
green  leaf-cricket  is  never  stilled.  Musically  the 
squirrel's  bark  rings  out  from  the  covert,  and  in- 
termittingly  rises  the  warbling  of  assembling 
blackbirds.  Over  the  flowers  swarm  crowds  of 
sulphur  butterflies,  and  bee  and  wasp  are  ban- 
queting upon  the  fallen  fruit.  Perceptibly  the 
shadows  lengthen,  as  the  haze  of  autumn  draws 
its  veil  over  the  latter  year.  Soon,  ah  !  why  al- 
way  so  soon  ?  the  patter  of  dropping  nuts  and 
the  rustle  of  falling  leaves. 

Every  little  while  I  catch  a  fragment  of  a 
familiar  strain  voiced  by  the  song-birds  on  their 
southward  flight  as  they  pause  for  a  day  on 
their  migration.  From  what  distant  coverts  and 
unexplored  forests  has  not  that  white-throated 
sparrow  returned,  whose  silvery  tinkle  floats 
from  the  copse  so  musically,  yet  so  plaintively, 
seeming  like  an  echo  of  departed  spring  ! 

The  yellow-birds,  who  are  busy  scattering 
the  milkweed's  floss,  have  a  little  lisping  cry  that 


anti  JFrufts  of  Autumn. 


always  seems  tinged  with  sadness  at  this  season. 
Perhaps  the  season  has  more  to  do  with  the 
apparent  sadness  than  the  voice  of  the  bird  it- 
self. If  the  frogs  were  vocal  in  October,  no 
doubt  the  trombone  of  the  great  green  batra- 
chian  would  seem  a  Miserere.  Were  the  green 
leaf  -cricket  a  spring  chorister,  his  measured 
"Treat-treat-treat"  would  doubtless  appear  a 
buoyant  "  Friihlingslied."  So  much  depends  on 
association  of  familiar  sounds  with  the  season, 
or  the  circumstances  under  which  they  are 
heard.  I  can  scarcely  imagine  how  the  call  of 
the  meadow-lark  would  sound  from  the  depths 
of  a  thicket,  or  how  much  of  its  metallic  quality 
the  veery's  song  would  lose  if  uttered  in  the 
open  field. 

But  the  blackbird's  notes  during  autumn  are 
assuredly  sad,  as  they  linger  over  the  withering 
stubbles,  or  drop  down  from  the  home-bound 
flocks  at  evening.  Every  morning,  now,  they 
pass  overhead  in  large  bands  from  the  marshes, 
on  the  way  to  their  daily  forage-grounds  ;  and 
every  evening,  now  flying  low  and  now  flying 
high,  they  return  over  the  self-same  route  to  the 
haven  of  the  reeds.  The  majority  are  black- 
birds, though  the  starling  and  crow-blackbird 
feed  with  them,  and  form  part  of  the  morning 
and  evening  flights.  The  flocks  grow  larger  as 


322 


Barton's  .Storo. 


the  season  advances,  and,  when  flying  low  in 
the  calm  of  evening,  cause  a  sishing  sound,  like 
the  ebb  of  the  surf  upon  the  shingle.  What  a 
clamor  there  arises  from  the  ebon  flocks  in  the 
corn  fields  for  weeks  before  their  departure; 
what  garrulous  sessions  are  held  by  the  disput- 
ing crowds  ere  the  date  is  fixed  upon  for  their 
southward  flight !  We  may  well  wonder  how 
the  young  birds  are  made  to  understand  the  sig- 
nal of  departure,  and  marvel 

Who  calls  the  council,  states  the  certain  day  ? 
Who  forms  the  phalanx,  and  who  points  the  way  ? 


Cast  4H0nk1s-l}00b  Spire. 


For  never-resting  Time  leads  Summer  on 
To  hideous  Winter,  and  confounds  him  there ; 

Sap  check'd  with  frost,  and  lusty  leaves  quite  gone. 
Beauty  o'ersnow'd,  and  bareness  everywhere. 

SONNET  V. 


XV. 
THE   LAST   MONK'S-HOOD   SPIRE. 

|  HERE  is  little  left  to  tell  of  the  flower- 
garden  after  mid-October ;  its  bright- 
ness fades  rapidly  with  the  shortening 
days.  Glorious  have  been  the  great  Japanese 
anemones;  they  are  the  life  of  the  borders  in 
October,  being  to  autumn  what  the  daffodils  are 
to  spring.  Dahlias,  salvias,  and  ageratums  have 
been  struck  by  frost ;  the  anemones  still  linger, 
white  as  the  snow-flakes  they  herald.  The 
chrysanthemums  are  just  appearing,  among  the 
latest  of  autumn  flowers,  and  we  once  more 
touch  our  hat  to  China  and  Japan.  For  the 
fading  flowers  we  have  the  brilliant  fruits  and 
berries,  and  the  changing  hues  of  the  foliage. 
On  yonder  upland  grove  I  see  nearly  every  shade 
of  red  and  yellow  which  the  entire  summer  has 
contributed  to  the  flower-borders.  The  maple 
would  be  held  a  sacred  tree  by  the  Orientals  for 


326  £t)e  ©arUen's  Storj. 

its  skill  as  a  fall  landscape-painter.  Almost 
equally  beautiful  is  the  dogwood,  a  tree  that 
should  be  in  every  garden,  no  less  for  its  Octo- 
ber splendor  than  for  its  magnificent  June  in- 
florescence. 

It  is  an  opportune  moment  to  consider  trees 
and  shrubs  with  regard  to  their  autumnal  hues  ; 
later  they  may  be  studied  with  reference  to  the 
beauty  of  their  spray  and  leafless  lines.  The 
feature  of  autumnal  coloring  should  receive  at- 
tention when  planting,  just  as  much  as  the  flow- 
ering habit  of  ornamental  trees  and  shrubs. 

The  very  high  coloring  of  foliage  in  nature 
we  may  not  always  hope  to  equal,  for  the  reason 
that  intensity  of  hue  is  frequently  caused  by 
overcrowding,  poor  soil,  or  special  exposure,  the 
latter  being  undoubtedly  the  most  important 
factor.  Trees  growing  on  arid  and  stony  ground 
are  usually  the  most  highly  colored,  though  fre- 
quently a  swamp,  where  the  scarlet  maple  and 
sweet-gum  flourish,  glows  like  a  lambent  flame. 
Full  maturity  of  foliage  before  it  is  touched  by 
black  frosts,  and  position  with  reference  to  the 
sun,  also  count  for  much  in  the  bursts  of  color 
that  hang  upon  the  autumnal  upland. 

Many  kinds  of  trees  and  shrubs  assume  the 
same  hue  or  hues  every  autumn,  individuals 
offering  no  deviation.  Other  kinds,  like  the 


£f)e  Hast  ifconfc's^ooU  Spfre.         327 

scarlet  and  sugar  maples,  are  widely  different  in 
the  colors  individual  trees  assume.  It  may  be 
noticed  that  a  tree  with  individual  markings 
always  repeats  these  markings — the  same  red 
branch  or  branches,  or  the  same  scarlet  leaves 
tipped  with  green,  duplicating  themselves  on  the 
same  tree  year  after  year.  It  would  be  well  if 
nurserymen  would  propagate,  through  grafting, 
striking  individual  trees  for  their  autumnal  color- 
ing, notably  the  scarlet  and  sugar  maple. 

Without  doubt  the  maple  is  king  of  arboreal 
colorists,  no  other  tree  presenting  so  great  a 
variety  of  glowing  hues.  The  scarlet  maple 
contributes  more  self-colors  than  the  sugar.  Its 
leaf,  however,  falls  quicker,  and  does  not  pos- 
sess the  delicate  shadings  from  green  to  reds 
and  yellows  that  many  of  the  sugar-maples  do. 
But  in  its  first  flush  of  scarlet,  orange,  or  cardi- 
nal it  has  no  rival  for  distant  effects.  The 
larger  Japanese  maple  (Acer  polymorphuni) 
should  always  have  a  place,  for  the  beauty  of  its 
autumnal  foliage.  Indeed,  the  smaller  Japanese 
maples,  as  well,  are  of  marked  beauty  during 
autumn.  Among  trees  that  assume  a  bright 
yellow,  the  Norway  maple,  elm,  birch,  hickory, 
maiden-hair,  ash,  yellow-wood,  and  larch  are 
conspicuous.  The  sassafras  has  its  individual 
hues — ochres,  passing  from  yellow  to  deep  or- 


328  ertje  CKartien's 


ange  and  umber.  The  shad-blow  colors  a  rich 
garnet,  not  unlike  some  of  the  tones  of  the 
pepperidge-tree  ;  while  the  dogwood's  is  unques- 
tionably the  most  vivid,  deep  lake-red  of  all 
trees.  The  American  mountain  -ash  passes 
from  yellow  to  rich  clarets  and  purples  ;  the 
European  mountain-ash  seldom  develops  much 
autumnal  coloring,  confining  its  display  to  its 
brilliant  fruit.  The  sweet-gum  and  sour-gum, 
fine  trees  at  all  seasons,  are  exceptionally  at- 
tractive during  autumn  in  the  deep  purplish-red 
and  orange  shades  of  the  leaves. 

For  simple  variety  of  colors,  the  various  oaks 
are  almost  equal  to  the  maples.  The  oak  has 
its  own  scale  of  russets  and  maroons  ;  and  no 
one  can  pass  it  without  admiration,  when  the 
November  sunlight  strikes  through  the  glisten- 
ing foliage  of  the  native  scarlet  oak,  the  last 
bright-red  of  fall. 

If  we  take  yellow  alone  for  the  color-stand- 
ard, the  beech  is  without  an  equal.  .A  beech, 
indeed,  is  always  beautiful.  In  late  November 
its  colors  still  remain  attractive,  varying  from 
rich  Roman  ochre  to  deep-brown  bronze,  and 
from  pale  rose-buff  to  lustrous,  satiny  gray. 
Assuredly  Downing  is  mistaken  in  considering 
its  beauty  diminished  during  winter,  owing  to 
the  retention  of  much  of  its  foliage.  Its  har- 


&f)e  3Last  |»onfc's*f)o<rti  .Spfre.        329 

mony  is  of  marked  loveliness  in  winter,  a  faded 
elegance  clinging  to  it  like  a  chastened  autumnal 
memory.  I  can  not  understand  how  Wilson 
Flagg  should  refer  to  it  as  remarkably  dull  in 
its  autumnal  tints.  To  the  Selborne  rector 
the  beech  was  "  the  most  beautiful  of  all  trees," 
and  Jesse  rightly  "  loved  it  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year." 

Among  smaller  trees,  the  aspen  is  prominent 
for  its  golden-yellow  hue,  its  effect  being  height- 
ened by  the  play  of  the  sunlight  upon  its  quiver- 
ing leaves.  The  common  sumac  is  invariably 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  colorists,  especially 
when  growing  on  stony  places.  The  cut-leaved 
variety  (Rhus  glabra  laciniatd),  a  striking 
shrub,  with  deeply-cut,  fern-like  foliage,  is 
equally  beautiful  in  its  October  dress.  Several 
of  the  shrubby  spiraeas  are  worth  planting  sole- 
ly for  their  autumrial  foliage,  particularly  the 
plum-leaved  variety  (S.  prunifolia).  But,  of 
all  small  ornamental  shrubs,  the  finest  is  Her- 
berts Fortuneti,  the  small  leaves  of  which  vary 
through  different  shades  of  green,  yellow,  and 
salmon  to  vivid  Venetian  red.  Of  fruit-trees 
that  contribute  to  the  autumnal  pageant,  the 
most  striking  are  the  peach,  pear,  apple,  and 
cherry.  In  the  two  former,  greens  are  often 
most  exquisitely  graduated,  passing  into  yellow, 
22 


33°  £t)e  Barton's  .Storg. 

orange,  and  red ;  the  apple  preserves  its  green 
for  a  long  period,  and  then,  in  numerous  varie- 
ties, shades  it  with  yellow  before  the  leaves  be- 
come seared  by  hard  frosts. 

It  is  self-evident  that  there  can  be  no  satis- 
factory garden  without  a  sufficiency  of  trees  and 
shrubs.  The  former  are  necessary,  if  only  for 
shade.  But  trees  and  shrubs  with  colored  and 
variegated  foliage,  and  those  which  assume  vivid 
autumnal  tints,  are  rarely  seen  as  frequently 
under  cultivation  as  they  should  be  ;  and  many 
a  garden,  for  this  reason,  lacks  a  great  charm  of 
outward  nature. 

For  several  reasons,  fall  is  the  best  season 
for  transplanting.  One  can  judge  better,  at 
least  so  far  as  the  shrubberies  and  flower-bor- 
ders are  concerned,  where  to  plant,  than  when 
the  plants  have  died  down,  or  are  denuded  of 
foliage.  Moreover,  when  planting  is  deferred 
until  spring,  many  things  are  apt  to  be  forgot- 
ten in  the  rush  of  garden-work.  The  sooner 
you  plant  a  desirable  tree,  shrub,  or  flower,  the 
sooner  you  will  derive  the  benefit.  Even  a  fine 
specimen  perennial  often  requires  years  to  attain 
its  development.  The  proper  way,  it  may  be 
reiterated,  is  to  plant  something  every  year ;  and 
it  is  better  to  plant  excessively,  thinning  out  as 
becomes  necessary,  than  to  plant  sparingly. 


5Tt)e  3Last  #aonit's*t)ootr  Sbjpfre.         33 1 

The  older  you  grow,  if  you  love  your  garden, 
the  more  your  taste  will  develop,  and  the  more 
you  will  regret  not  having  set  out  a  tree,  shrub,  or 
perennial  in  the  place  it  might  occupy  and  adorn. 

Autumn  is  variously  voiced  by  the  poets, 
more  often  in  a  minor  than  a  major  key.  De- 
spite the  pomp  with  which  she  appears,  her 
crimsoning  woods  are  but  the  presage  of  ap- 
proaching death,  when  the  snow  shall  be  her 
burial  shroud  and  winter's  winds  shall  chant  her 
funeral  dirge.  Charming  she  is  in  her  mingling 
of  October  sunshine  and  shadow ;  pitiful  in  her 
mournful  November  garb.  Yet  let  but  a  burst 
of  sunlight  touch  the  leafless  trees,  and  she  is  in- 
stantly transformed. 

In  British  verse  autumn  is  usually  dank  and 
sodden,  bleak  or  shivering.  The  yew  and  the 
holly  seem  to  absorb  the  light  and  cast  a  pall 
upon  the  landscape.  The  sugar  and  scarlet  ma- 
ple, the  dogwood  and  sumac,  are  wanting  to 
impart  their  warmth  of  color ;  and  St.  Martin's 
summer  somehow  fails  to  shed  a  cheerful  influ- 
ence as  does  our  Indian  summer.  Thus  David 
Gray : 

October's  gold  is  dim — the  forests  rot, 
The  weary  rain  falls  ceaseless — while  the  day 
Is  wrapped  in  damp.     In  mire  of  village  way 
The  hedgerow  leaves  are  stamped  ;  and,  all  forgot, 


332  C!)e  ©farfcen's 


The  broodless  nest  sits  visible  in  the  thorn. 
Autumn,  among  her  drooping  marigolds 
Keeps  all  her  garnered  sheaves,  and  empty  folds, 
And  dripping  orchards  —  plundered  and  forlorn. 

Even  Shakespeare  shivers  : 

That  time  of  year  .  .  . 

When  yellow  leaves,  or  none,  or  few,  do  hang 
Upon  those  boughs  which  shake  against  the  cold, 

Bare  ruin'd  choirs,  where  late  the  sweet  birds  sang. 

Tennyson  is  pathetic,  but  neither  somber 
nor  gelid  : 

Calm  is  the  morn  without  a  sound, 
Calm  as  to  suit  a  calmer  grief, 
And  only  through  the  faded  leaf 

The  chestnut  pattering  to  the  ground  : 

Calm  and  deep  peace  on  this  high  wold, 
And  on  these  dews  that  drench  the  furze, 
And  all  the  silvery  gossamers 

That  twinkle  into  green  and  gold. 

Of  all  odes  to  autumn,  Keats's,  I  believe,  is 
most  universally  admired.  This  might  almost 
answer  to  our  own  fall  of  the  leaf,  and  is  far  less 
somber  than  many  apostrophes  to  the  season 
that  occur  throughout  English  verse.  Another 
contemporaneous  ode,  though  less  generally  ad- 
mired, is,  I  think,  equally  fine  and  certainly 
stronger.  Hood's  is  emphatically  an  ode  to  late 


Hast  ^8onfe's*!)ootr  Spfre.        333 

November  ;  Keats's  applies  more  strictly  to  late 
October.  Each  is  perfect  in  its  way.  Between 
them  exists  the  same  difference  as  there  exists 
between  Keats's  and  Leigh  Hunt's  rival  sonnets 
to  the  grasshopper  and  cricket.  Keats's  is  less 
forceful.  Could  there  be  anything  stronger  than 
Hood's  grand  opening  lines  ? 

I  saw  old  Autumn  in  the  misty  morn 
Stand  shadowless  like  Silence  listening 
To  silence,  for  no  lonely  bird  would  sing 
Into  his  hollow  ear  from  woods  forlorn, 
Nor  lowly  hedge,  nor  solitary  thorn. 

It  is  the  very  shadow  of  November,  when  the 
fire  of  autumn  is  burned  out,  and  shivering  Na- 
ture silently  awaits  the  shroud  which  is  to  cover 
her.  These  four  lines  have  rarely  been  equaled 
in  the  picture  they  convey  of  autumn  desolation  : 

Where  is  the  pride  of  summer — the  green  prime — 
The  many,  many  leaves  all  twinkling  ?    Three 

On  the  moss'd  elm,  three  on  the  naked  lime 
Trembling,  and  one  upon  the  old  oak-tree  ! 

And  again  : 

The  squirrel  gloats  o'er  his  accomplish'd  hoard, 
The  ants  have  brimm'd  their  garners  with  ripe  grain, 

And  honey-bees  have  stored 
The  sweets  of  summer  in  their  luscious  cells  ; 
The  swallows  all  have  wing'd  across  the  main  ; 


334  £&e  efartJtn's  Storj. 

But  here  the  Autumn  melancholy  dwells 

And  sighs  her  tearful  spells 
Among  the  sunless  shadows  of  the  plain. 

Alone,  alone, 

Upon  a  mossy  stone, 

She  sits  and  reckons  up  the  dead  and  gone, 
With  the  last  leaves  for  a  love  rosary.  .  .  . 

Keats's  ode  is  less  austere.  It  has  more 
of  autumn  gold  than  maroon  ;  more  of  pur- 
ple haze  than  leaden  skies.  Thus,  the  sec- 
ond stanza: 

Who  hath  not  seen  thee  oft  amid  thy  store  ? 

Sometimes  whoever  seeks  abroad  may  find 
Thee  sitting  careless  on  a  granary  floor, 

Thy  hair  soft-lifted  by  the  winnowing  wind  ; 
Or  on  a  half-reaped  furrow  sound  asleep, 

Drowsed  with  the  fume  of  poppies,  while  thy  hook 
Spares  the  next  swath  and  all  its  twined  flowers  : 

And  sometimes  like  a  gleaner  thou  dost  keep 
Steady  thy  laden  head  across  a  brook  ; 
Or  by  a  cider-press,  with  patient  look, 

Thou  watchest  the  last  oozings  hours  by  hours. 

The  alliteration  in  s  is  noticeable  in  'each  of 
the  two  preceding  stanzas;  but  Hood's  felici- 
tous use  of  the  vowel  o  throughout  the  ode 
imparts  to  it  a  solemnity  and  gloom  that  ex- 
press the  mournful  spirit  of  November  such  as 
has  no  counterpart  in  poetry  inspired  by  the 
latter  season. 


2Tf)e  JLast  #a<mtt's=f)ooTj  <&j)fre.        335 

Thomson's  old  etching  of  Autumn  still  stands 
out  as  sharply  as  when  first  defined : 

Crown'd  with  the  sickle  and  the  wheaten  sheaf, 
While  Autumn,  nodding  o'er  the  yellow  plain, 
Comes  jovial  on. 

Its  expressiveness  must  have  caught  the  fancy 
of  the  French,  for  a  Gallic  couplet  reads : 

Couronnee  d'epis,  tenant  en  main  la  faucille, 
L'Automne  joyeuse  descend  sur   nos  campagnes  jau- 
nissantes — 

which,  if  not  a  literal  transcription,  bears  its  col- 
oring in  a  marked  degree. 
Herrick  paints  Autumn  as 

The  Northern  Plunderer 

To  strip  the  Trees  and  Fields  to  their  distresse, 
Leaving  them  to  a  pittied  nakednesse. 

I  have  always  admired  a  version  of  Autumn 
by  an  old  master  who  painted  in  prose  : 

Autumn  is  the  barber  of  the  year  who  shears  the 
bushes,  hedges,  and  trees— the  ragged  prodigal  who  con- 
sumes all  and  leaves  himself  nothing  ;  and  this  bald- 
pated  Autumn  is  seen  going  up  and  down  orchards  and 
groves,  fields,  parks,  and  pastures,  shaking  off  fruit  and 
beating  leaves  from  the  trees. 

Charles  Tennyson  Turner's  "October,"  like 
all  his  sonnets,  is  stamped  with  a  delicate  and 
graceful  fancy : 


336  Ct)e  Cfartoen's  Storj. 


'Twas  the  last  week  the  swallow  would  remain. 

How  jealously  I  watched  his  circling  play  ! 

A  few  brief  hours  and  he  would  dart  away, 
No  more  to  turn  upon  himself  again. 

A  more  tender  melancholy  pervades  the  com- 
panion sonnet  to  "  Autumn"  : 

The  crush  of  leaves  is  heard  beneath  his  feet, 
Mixt,  as  he  onward  goes,  with  softer  sound, 
As  though  his  heel  were  sinking  into  snows. 
Full  soon  a  sadder  landscape  opens  round, 
With,  here  and  there,  a  latter-flowering  rose, 
Child  of  the  summer  hours,  though  blooming  here 
Far  down  the  vista  of  the  fading  year. 

The  sounds  of  latter  autumn,  which  we  have 
all  listened  to  from  some  still  upland,  are  articu- 
late in  "  An  Autumn  Landscape,"  by  Alfred 
Billings  Street : 

Far  sounds  melt  mellow  on  the  ear  ;  the  bark— 
The  bleat — the  tinkle— whistle — blast  of  horn — 
The  rattle  of  the  wagon-wheel — the  low — 
The  fowler's  shot — the  twitter  of  the  bird. 

Nowhere  in  American  poetry,  however,  are  the 
lights  and  shadows  of  Indian  summer  drawn  with 
a  truer  touch  than  by  Lowell  and  Read.  Thus 
the  former's  "An  Indian  Summer  Reverie": 

Far  distant  sounds  the  hidden  chickadee 

Close  at  my  side ;  far  distant  sound  the  leaves ; 
The  fields  seem  fields  of  dream.  .  .  . 


ILast  ^onfc's*Docrtr  <Spfte.        337 

The  cock's  shrill  trump  that  tells  of  scattered  corn, 
Passed  breezily  on  by  all  his  flapping  mates, 

Faint  and  more  faint,  from  barn  to  barn  is  borne, 
Southward,  perhaps  to  far  Magellan's  straits.  .  .  . 

The  single  crow  a  single  caw  lets  fall ; 

And  all  around  me  every  bush  and  tree 
Says  Autumn's  here  and  Winter  soon  will  be, 

Who  snows  his  soft  white  sleep  and  silence  over  all. 

And  Read,  in  "  The  Closing  Scene  "  : 

All  sights  were  mellowed  and  all  sounds  subdued, 
The  hills  seemed  farther  and  the  streams  sang  low  ; 

As  in  a  dream  the  distant  woodman  hewed 

His  winter  log  with  many  a  muffled  blow.  .  .  . 

The  sentinel  cock  upon  the  hill-side  crew, 
Crew  thrice,  and  all  was  stiller  than  before — 

Silent  till  some  replying  warder  blew 

His  alien  horn,  and  then  was  heard  no  more.  .  .  . 

But,  amid  the  melancholy  of  the  autumn 
Muse  and  the  gloom  of  autumnal  skies,  I  catch  a 
pleasing  fancy  to  nurse  through  the  tedious  win- 
ter hours.  I  thought  the  crocus  the  herald  of 
spring ;  but  in  the  copse  I  already  catch  a  gleam 
of  vernal  gold.  The  witch-hazel  (Hamamelis 
Virginiand)  is  first  to  put  forth  its  sturdy  blos- 
soms, pure  and  fresh  at  this  season  as  was  the 
gilded  urn  of  March.  Often .  I  meet  its  flower- 
clusters  in  the  wintry  woods  when  all  its  com- 
panions save  the  oak,  beech,  and  hornbeam  are 


2Tf)e  (KarOen's 


denuded  of  foliage,  smiling  at  the  cold  and  snow. 
Does  it  not  convey  a  meaning  ?  Its  pale-yellow 
petals  speak  to  me  of  immortality,  and  its  fra- 
grant breath  exhales  a  promise  of  coming  flowers. 
What  more  remains  to  say  of  the  garden, 
now  shorn  of  its  beauty,  except  that  each  year 
one  learns  to  love  it  more?  Alone,  defying 
frost  and  sleet,  the  tall  blue  monk's-hood  spires 
remain,  to  be  stricken  down  in  turn,  and  patient- 
ly await  the  dawn  of  spring. 


Acer  polymorphum,  327. 

rubrum,  27,  28,  326,  327. 
Achillea  rosea,  51. 
Actaea,  318. 

Actinidia  polygamia,  241. 
Adder's  tongue,  71. 
Addison  on  the  fancy,  7. 
Adiantum  pedatum,  268. 
Adonis  vernalis,  131. 
Agaricus  campestris,  308. 
Ageratums,  325. 
Akebia  quinata,  242. 
Allen,  Grant,  206,  210. 
Alpine  catchfly.     See  SILENE 

ALPESTRIS. 

Althaeas,  35,  36,  234,  236,  276. 
Alyssum,  131. 

Amelanchier  Canadensis,  73. 
Androsace,  131. 
Anemone,  no,  123,  124,  127. 

Alpina, 123. 

blanda,  123. 

fulgens,  123. 

Japanese,  37,   52,   280,   306, 

325- 

nemorosa,  123. 
palmata,  123. 


Anemone  pulsatilla,  123. 

sylvestris,  123. 

Angling  masters,  ancient,  201. 
Anthemis  tinctoria,  160,  247. 
Ants,  45,  199,  319. 
Aphides,  204. 
Apios  tuberosa,  242. 
Apple-blossoms,  86. 
Aquilegia,  141. 

Canadensis,  72,  142. 

chrysantha,  141. 

coerulea,  141. 

glandulosa,  142. 

longissima,  141. 

Stuarti,  142. 

vulgaris,  142. 

Witmanni,  142. 
Arbutus,  5,  61,  63,  no. 
Arethusa  bulbosa,  129. 
Arissema  triphyllum,  72. 
Aristotle,  214,  250. 
Arum  arisarum,  73. 
Ascham,  Roger,  30,  31. 
Asclepias  tuberosa,  251. 
Ash,  327. 
Aspen,  198,  329. 
Aspidium  achrosticoides,  267. 


340 


Aspidium  aculeatum,  267. 

cristatum,  267. 

felix-mas,  267. 

Goldianum,  267. 

marginale,  267. 

spinulosum,  267. 
Asplenium  ebeneum,  270. 

nigrum,  270. 

trichomanes,  270. 
Association  in  odors,  7. 
Aster  amellus,  315. 
Aster,  annual,  315. 
Aster  Novae  Angliae,  314. 
Asters,  5,  256,  312-314. 
Autumnal  hues,  306,  326. 
Autumn  and  the  poets,  331. 
Autumn,  the  ode  to,  320. 
Avens,  scarlet,  248. 
Azalea,  no,  139,  140. 

calendulacea,  140. 

nudiflora,  140,  255. 

viscosa,  140,  255. 

Bachelor-buttons,  146,  250. 
Bacon,  Francis,  33,  34,  305. 
Baneberry,  318. 
Barberry,  35,  236,  318. 

purple-leaved,  235. 
Bats,  149,  221,  222. 
Baudelaire,  7. 
Beeches,  255,  328,  337. 
Beech-fern,  78,  269. 
Bee-larkspur,  210-212. 
Bee-masters,  ancient,  199. 
Bees,  106,  159,  188,  193,  204, 

209,  212,  2l6,  2l8,  219,  230, 

241,  20!. 


Bees,    a    singular    preference 
shown  by,  210. 

colors  preferred  by,  209. 

perforating  the  corolla,  212. 

and  bears,  200. 
Beetles,  destructive  to  flowers, 

217. 

Bell,  Peter,  54. 
Belleau,  Remy,  59. 
Bell-flower,  146,  156,  157. 
Bellworts,  73. 
Berberis  Fortuneii,  329. 
Bermuda  lily,  176. 
Bidens  chrysanthemoides,  314. 
Bills,     the     abomination     of, 

197. 

Birds,  migrating,  320. 
Bitter-sweet,  305. 
Bitter-vetch,  160. 
Blackbird,  18,  81,  320,  321. 
Black-cap  chickadee,  255. 
Bladder-fern,  77. 
Bladder-senna,  235. 
Blood-root,  59,  63,  no. 
Blot,  Pierre,  309. 
Bluebird,  18,  27,  59. 
Blue  jay,  20,  253. 

flag,  72. 
Bluets,  78. 
Bobolink,  82. 
Bocconia  cordata,  284. 
Bog-garden,  the,  33,  76. 
Bokhara  bell-flower,  157. 
Bombus  terrestris,  212,  219. 
Books  I  must  read,  25. 

for    summer    reading,    193, 
202. 


Books,  pocket  editions  of,  87. 
Borders,  flower,  46,  51,  52. 

size  of,  38. 
Borers,  199,  319. 
Bosoms  of  the  beautiful,  155. 
Botanists,  the  German,  213. 
Botrychium  Virginicum,  267. 
Bowne,  Borden,  24. 
Bracken,  267. 
Brantdme  on  feminine  beauty, 

67. 

Brier  rose,  146,  189. 
Brisse,  Baron,  10,  308,  309. 
Brown-creeper,  255. 
Bruchus  pisi,  21. 
Bryant,  17,  65. 
Bull-frogs,  105,  321. 
Bulwer,  8,  194,  228. 
Bumble-bees,    159,    202,    204, 

209-213,  219,  313. 
Buphthalmum       cordifolium, 

247. 

Burbidge,  F.  W.,  79,  91. 
Burns,  Robert,  120. 
Burr-marigold,  314. 
Burroughs,  John,   16,   19,  87, 

277. 

Bush  cranberry,  317. 
Butcher-bird,  19. 
Butler,  200. 
Butterflies,  193,  219,  223,  313. 

a  storm  of,  313. 
Butterfly-weed,  251. 
Button-bush,  233. 

Calendula,  156,  276,  316. 
Calif ornian  lilies,  175. 


Calla-lily,  5. 
Caltha  palustris,  75,  76. 
Calycanthus,  35,  235= 
Camellia,  5. 
Camomile,  160. 
Campanula  barbata,  157. 

Carpatica,  300. 

macrantha,  157. 

medium,  156. 

persiscifolia,  157. 

pulla,  157. 

Camptosorus  rhizophyllus,  270. 
Canna,  300,  302. 
Canterbury  bells,  156. 
Cardinal-flower,  no,  136,  183, 

252. 

Carnation,  155,  250. 
Castle     of      Indolence,     the, 

iQ3- 
Catalogues,  the  florist's  14,  88, 

295- 

Cat-bird,  82,  159,  319. 
Celastrus  scandens,  242. 
Centau  rea  dealbata,  248. 

glastifolia,  247. 

macrocephala,  247. 

montana,  247. 

moschata,  248. 

Ruthentica,  247. 
Cephalanthus       occidentalis, 

233- 

Ceterach  officinarum,  270. 
Cheilanthes  vestita,  270. 
Chelone  glabra,  252. 
Cherry,  double-flowering,  86. 
Chestnut-tree,  250. 
Chickadee,  255,  336. 


342 


Chionanthus  Virginica,  230. 
Chionodoxa  Lucilae,  107. 
Chrysanthemum,  325. 

maximum,  246. 
Cicada,  106,  250,  278,  280. 
Cimicifuga  racemosa,  318. 
Cineraria,  51. 
Cinquefoils,  131. 
Cladrastis  tinctoria,  230. 
Clare.  John,  289. 
Claytonia  parviflora,  63. 

Virginica,  62. 
Clematis,  237-239,  242,  305. 

Jackmani,  34,  237. 
Clethra  alnifolia,  74,  232,  233. 
Climbing  shrubs,  236. 

staff-tree,  242. 
Club-moss,  255. 
Colchicum  autumnale,  303. 

lily,  170. 

Collins,  William,  70. 
Colors,  5,  8,  15,  38,  48,  55, 
61,  76,  121,  138,  139,  150, 
152,  153.  *74t  1981  2°9.  224, 
235,  245,  246,  252,  257,  276, 
281,  301,  302,  306,  312,316, 
317,  318,  325-330. 

autumnal,  300. 

unhappy  use  of,  153. 

when  they  harmonize,  153. 
Columbines,  52,  72,  141. 
Colutea,  235. 
Compass-plant,  293. 
Coptis  trifolia,  127. 
Corchorus,  236. 
Coreopsis,  156,  295. 

lanceolata,  161,  247,  295. 


Cornelian  cherry,  236,  317. 
Cornus  Canadensis,  77,  78. 

floridus,  74,  326,  328,  331. 

mascula,  317. 
Corolla,    perforated    by    bees, 

212. 

Cotoneaster,  236. 
Country  gardens,  53,  143,  145, 

156,  i8z. 

Cowslips,  4,  106. 
Crab,  garland-flowering,  86. 
Cranesbill,  72. 

Crickets,  7,  106,  234,  251,  278, 
300,  307,  320. 

climbing,  279. 

green  leaf,  241,  251,  278-280, 

320,  321. 
Crocus,  28,  no,  303,  337. 

autumnal,  303. 
Cross-fertilization,  215. 
Crow-blackbird,  16,  20-22,  82, 

321- 

Crown-imperial,  61,  146. 
Crows,  15,  206,  337. 
Cryptogramme  acrostichoides, 

270. 

Culpepper,  200. 
Currant,  yellow  flowering,  36. 
Cypripedium  acaule,  128. 

arietinum,  129. 

parviflorum,  128. 

pubescens,  128. 

spectabile,  128,  183. 
Cystopteris  bulbifera,  268. 

fragilis,  77,  78,  268. 
Czardas,     a     Hungarian,    82, 


343 


Daffodils  (see  also  NARCISSUS), 
4»  5»  49»  52-  Chapter  IV, 
109,  no,  146,  325. 

catalogues,  88. 

causes  of  color  in,  95. 

culture  of,  in  England  and 
Holland,  98,  99. 

dance  of  the,  96,  187. 

hoop  petticoat,  90,  98. 

Horsfieldi,  4,  87,  92. 

hybridizing,  91,  92. 

innumerable  forms  of,  89. 
Dahlia,  146,  301,  302,  325. 
Daphne  blagyana,  118. 

cneorum,  3,  117. 

mezereum,  3,  36. 

rupestris,  118. 
Darwin,  Charles,  209,  212,  215, 

224. 

Dawn,  a  summer,  159. 
Day-lilies,  161. 

white,  146,  161,  285. 

yellow.    See  HEMEROCALI.IS 

FLAVA. 

Dead  March  in  Saul,  the,  197. 
Delille,  Jacques,  101,  104. 
Delphinium    Wheelerii,    210- 

212. 
Deutzia,  35,  36,  229. 

crenata  fl.  pi.,  229. 

gracilis,  229. 

pride  of  Rochester,  229. 

scabra,  229. 
Dianthus,  131,  155. 

plumarius,  156. 
Dicentra  cucullaria,  72. 
Dictamnus  fraxinella,  145. 


Dictionary,    the,   illustrations 

in,  25. 

Dielytra,  146. 
Diervilla.     See  WEIGELA. 
Dioscorides,  214. 
Dobson,  Austin,  194. 
Doctor,  my  allopathic,  24. 
Dod,   Rev.    C.   W.,    66,    115. 

285. 

Dodecatheon,  131. 
Dog-tooth  violet,  59,  71. 
Dogwood,  74,  316,  318,  321. 

shrubby,  235,  236. 

variegated,  36. 
Double-flowering  rocket,  146, 

161. 

Downing,  A.  J.,  101,  305,  328. 
Downy  woodpecker,  255. 
Dryden,  John,  104. 
Dumas,  pere,  9,  87,  197. 
Dusk,  a  summer,  161. 
Dutchman's  breeches,  72. 
Dwarf  cornel,  77,  78. 

spleenwort,  78. 

East  wind,  the,  23,  203. 
Eau  de  Cologne,  8. 
Echinacea,  295. 
Elaeagnus  edulis,  236. 
Elder,  231,  313. 

black-fruited,  236. 

cut-leaved,  36,  232. 

fern-leaved,  36,  232. 

golden-leaved,  36,  231. 

variegated-leaved,  231,  236. 
Emerson,  R.  W.,  no. 
Epilobium,  256. 


344 


Equinox,  14,  23,  24,  306. 
Erianthus  ravennae,  37. 
Erlking,  the,  197. 
Erythronium  Americanum,  71. 

giganteum,  71. 

grandiflorum,  71,  117. 

Hendersonii,  71. 
Eschscholtzia,  156,  276. 
Ettrick  Shepherd,  the,  16. 
Eulalias,  286,  300. 

gracillina  univitata,  300. 

Japonica,  37,  300. 
Euonymus,  red-fruited,  236. 

white-fruited,  236. 
Eupatorium,  256. 
Evening  primrose,  98,  256, 286, 

287,  312. 

Ever-blooming  pea,  161. 
Evergreens,  pruning,  37. 
Everlasting,  the  field,  7,  136, 

357.  305.  3«- 
Exochorda,  36,  235. 

False  miter-wort,  126. 

Solomon's-seal,  78,  125,  127. 

violet,  127. 

Fathom-high  sunflower,  301. 
Ferns,  33,  198,  255,  261. 

beech,  78,  269. 

Christmas,  267. 

cinnamon,  266. 

evergreen  wood,  267. 

hart's-tongue,  270. 

interrupted,  265. 

maiden-hair,  261. 

oak,  77,  78,  127,  269. 

ostrich,  185,  261,  264. 


Ferns,  polypody,  77,  78,  126, 
127,  269. 

royal,  137,  241,  265. 

sensitive,  266. 

shield,  267. 

spleenwort,  270. 

walking,  270. 
Fertilization  of  flowers,   the, 

214. 
Fire-flies,  161. 

weed,  305. 
Flagg,  Wilson,  329. 
Fleur-de-lis,  139. 
Flora,    spring    and    summer, 

compared,  135. 
Floral  millennium,  advent  of, 

'5- 

Flower     catalogues,     14,     34, 
88. 

customs,  Oriental,  151. 
Flowers  at  the  grave,,  6. 

for  cutting,  138, 153, 156,302, 
316. 

indoor,  6. 

nocturnal,  223,  224,  286,  287. 

old-fashioned,  145,  148,  155, 
249,  302. 

prevailing  colors  of,  224. 
Foliage,  autumnal,  325-331. 

colors  of  spring,  61. 
Forsythia,  36,  83,  84. 

Fortuneii,  83. 

suspensa,  83. 

viridissima,  83. 
Fraxinella.      See  DICTAMNIS 

FRAXINELLA. 

Fringed  polygala,  77,  78. 


345 


Frogs,  27,  201,  321. 
Frosts,  the  first,  306,  316,  325. 
Funkia  grandiflora,  285. 
Fungi,  307,  312. 

Garden,  a  cool  place  in  the, 

198. 

a  neglected,  148. 
a  reserve,  49. 
a  wild,  305. 
a  wild  woods,  78, 
the  bog,  33. 
the   country,    53,    143,    145, 

156,  181. 
the  formal,  32. 
the  golden  rule  of  the,  32. 
the  herb,  146,  147. 
the  rock,  soil  for,  113. 
the  rock  versus  the  rockery, 

in. 

the  syllabus  of  the,  55. 
Gardener,  his  apothegms,  107, 

155- 

Gardeners,  26,  160,  180,  188. 
Gardening,   natural   style   of, 
34- 

the  art  of,  31,  33. 
Gardens  and  privacy,  35. 

to  lounge  in,  306. 
Garden-work  in  spring,  26. 
Gautier,  9. 
Geese,  wild,  27. 
Genista  saggitalis,  131. 
Gentian,  no,  122. 
Gentiana  acaulis,  122. 

Andrewsii,  122. 

crinita,  122. 

23 


Gentiana  verna,  122. 
Geranium  maculatum,  72. 
GeVarde,  155,  289,  314. 
Germans  as  botanists,  214. 
Geum,  248. 
Giant  hyssop,  145. 
Gladiolus,  302. 
Gothe,  208. 
Golden-banded  lily.     See   L. 

AURATUM. 

Golden  bell.    See  FORSYTHIA. 
Golden-rod,  305,  312. 
Goldfinch,  312. 
Goldthread,  77,  78,  127,  255. 
Crackle.     See  CROW-BLACK- 
BIRD. 

Grape  hyacinth,  146. 
Grass,  crab,  44. 
Grasses,  lawn,  38. 

ornamental,  37. 
Grasshoppers,   204,   251,   279, 

307.  320. 
Gray,  Asa,  54. 
Gray,  David,  331. 
Gray's  elegy,  69. 
Great  groundsel,  248. 

Herball,  315. 

sphinx,  the,  220-223. 
Green  leaf  cricket.  See  CRICK- 
ET. 

Ground  pine,  78. 
Guelder  rose,  230. 

Habenaria  blephariglottis,  129. 
ciliaris,  129. 
fimbriata,  129. 
psychodes,  129. 


346 


Hair-bird,  193. 
Halesia  tetraptcra,  232. 
Hamamelis  Virginiana,  337. 
Hamerton,  P.  G.,  75,  95. 
Harebells,  131. 
Harpalium  rigidum,  294. 
Harris,  Thaddeus  W.,  21. 
Hart's-tongue  fern,  78. 
Hawk-moths,  220,  221. 
Heleniums,  294. 
Heliantheae,  256,  280,  287-395, 

3°i.  305.  3'7. 

Heliopsis  laevis,  257,  288,  292. 
Hellebore,  black,  16. 
Hemerocallis  flava,  138,  142- 
144,  150,  170. 

fulva,  142,  144. 

graminea,  144. 

kwanzo  variegata,  144. 

kwanzo  variegata,  fl.  pi.,  144. 
Hepaticas,  59,  62,  72,  106,  107, 

no,  1 1 6,  254,  256. 
Herbalists,  the  old,  214,  290. 
Herrick,  276,  335. 
Herrick's  Julia,  87. 
Hibiscus,  234. 
Hickory,  327. 

Hieraceum  aurantiacum,  160. 
Hildreth,  Charles  Lotin,  13. 
Hollyhock,  146,  159. 
Holmes,  O.  W.,  70,  161. 
Honey-bees,     199,    204,    213, 

213,  333- 

Honeysuckles,  climbing,  239. 
Japanese  golden-leaved,  241. 
Japanese,  or  Halleana,  199, 

206,  220,  222,  240,  2SI,  275. 


Honeysuckles,    monthly    fra- 
grant, 241. 

shrubby,  36,  146,  235. 
swamp,  255. 
wild,  137. 

Hood,  Thomas,  205,  332-334- 

Hoop-petticoat    daffodil,    90, 
98. 

Horace,  63. 

Hornbeam,  255,  337. 

Hornets,  202-204. 

Horsemint,  249. 

Hoteia  Japonica,  154. 

Howclls,  273. 

Hudsonia  tomentosa,  119. 

Humming-birds,  174,  206, 220, 
223. 

Hunt,  Leigh,  333. 

Hydrangea,  35. 
paniculata  grandiflora,  235, 
280,  304,  306. 

Hylodes,  19. 

Hypoxis  erecta,  125. 

Iberis  corifolia,  124. 
correaefolia,  124. 
Gibraltarica,  124. 
jucunda,  125. 
sempervirens,  125. 
tenoriana,  125. 
Indian  summer,  331. 
Insect   fertilization.     Chapter 

IX. 

music,  204. 

pests,  160,  171,  186,  188,  203. 
204,  217,  239,282,  295,  304, 
319- 


347 


Insecticides,  45. 

Lawn,  pests  of  the,  43. 

Insects,  edible,  22. 

Leiophyllum  buxifolium,  119. 

injurious  to  vegetation,  21, 

Lemon-balm,  145. 

3i9- 

Lemon-verbena,  250. 

Ipomoea,  15. 

Lichens,  50. 

Iris  cristata,  124. 

Life  in  the  country,  147. 

English,  138. 

Ligustrum,  232. 

germanica,    137,    139,    146, 

Lilac,  36,  136,  146,  229. 

148. 

Lilies,  37,  49,  89,  161,  165,  195, 

Kcempferi,  137. 

246. 

pumila,  124. 

among  ferns,  185. 

reticulata,  124. 

synopsis  of,  169. 

Spanish,  138. 

transplanting,  173. 

Susiana,  138. 

Lilium  auratum,  5,  7,  168,  177, 

versicolor,  72. 

275,  303- 

Brownii,  176. 

Jack-in-the-pulpit,  72. 

bulbiferum,  26,  177. 

Jefferies,    Richard,    116,   134, 

Canadense,  141,  169,  183. 

244,  297. 

Canadense  flavum,  183,  185. 

Jerusalem  artichoke,  317. 

Canadense  rubrum,  141,  170, 

Jesse,   Edward,   13,  201,  202, 

182. 

329- 

Canadense.     varieties      of, 

Jewel-weed,  252,  256. 

184. 

Jonquils,  6,  89,  97,  117.     ' 

candidum,  172,  174. 

Chalcedonicum,  174,  206. 

Kalmia  latifolia,  233. 

colchicum,  170,  171. 

Katydid,  19,  280. 

croceum,  170. 

Keats,  John,    120,    161,   332- 

excelsum,  174. 

334- 

giganteum,  180. 

Grayi,  181. 

Ladies-tresses,  129,  256. 

Hansoni,  174. 

Lady's-slippers,  128,  183. 

Harrisii,  176. 

Lamb,  Charles,  309. 

Humboldtii,  175. 

Lang,  Andrew,  60,  192,  194. 

Isabellinum.      See    EXCEJU- 

Larkspur,   146,    161,  206,   245, 

SUM. 

250,  300. 

longiflorum,  176. 

Lawn,  the,  38-46. 

martagon,  177. 

348 


Lilium,  martagon  album,  177. 

martagon  dalmaticum,  177. 

pardelinum,  175,  176. 

pardclinum  Alpinum,  176. 

Parryi,  175. 

parvum,  176. 

Philadelphicum,  170,  172. 

pulchellum,  172. 

rubescens,  175. 

speciosum,  168,  176. 

speciosum  Melpomene,  176. 

superbum,  141,  181,  182. 

tenuifolium,  171. 

testaceum.       See     EXCEL- 
SUM. 

Thunbergianum,  177. 

tigrinum,  181,  275. 

tigrinum  fl.  pi.,  181. 

tigrinum  splendens,  181. 

umbellatum,  177. 

Washingtonianum,  175. 
Lily,  legend  of  the,  166. 

Madonna,  166,  172,  174. 

of  the  valley,  6,  146. 

tiger,  146,  181,  275. 

wild  Turk's-cap,  181. 

wild    wood,    183,    198,    206, 

256. 
Lime-tree,  the,  193,  198,  199, 

206,  230,  333. 
Linaria  vulgaris,  312. 
Linden,  319.    See  also  LIME- 
TREE. 
Linnsea  borealis,  77,  in,  125, 

127. 

Lobelia,  blue,  or  syphilitica, 
252. 


Lobelia,  cardinalis,  252. 

Locust,  204. 

Lonicera  Halleana,   199,  206, 

220,  222,  240,  275. 
Lotus  corniculatus,  131. 
Lowell,  J.  Russell,  no,  336. 
Lubbock,  Sir  John,  209. 
Lungwort,  72. 
Lychnis,  scarlet  or  Chalcedo- 

nica,  206,  245,  248. 

Madonna  lily,  166,  172,  174. 
Magenta,  5,  15,  51,  55,  61,  152, 

153- 
Magnolias,  26,  36,  83. 

conspicua,  84. 

glauca,  85. 

Halleana,  36,  84,  240. 
Magnolia  Lennei,  84. 

macrophylla,  84. 

purpurea,  84. 

Soulangeana,  85. 

Thomsoniana,  85. 

tripetala,  85. 
Maiden-hair,  327. 

fern,  261,  268. 
Maple,  Japanese,  235,  327. 

Norway,  327. 

scarlet,  27,  28,  326,  327,  331, 

sugar,  327,  331. 
Marigold,  276. 
Marsh  marigold,  75,  76,  137. 
Martagon  lily,  177,  198. 
Martial,  250. 
Martin,  purple,  18. 
Martin,  Sir  Theodore,  101. 
Matthiola  annua,  303. 


349 


May-beetle,  45,  282. 
May-flies,  149. 

Meadow-lark,  27,  59,  82,  321. 
Meconopsis  Cambrica,  120. 

Nepalensis,  120. 
Meleager,  251. 

Menispermum  Canadense,  242. 
Mertensia  Virginica,  72. 
Midges,  dance  of  the,  205. 
Midsummer -Night's   Dream, 

the,  193. 

Mignonette,  250. 
Migrating  birds,  320. 
Milkweed,  160,  252,  320. 
Miller,  Hugh,  24. 
Missouri  currant,  87. 
Mitchella  repens,  126,  127. 
Mock-orange,    36,     146,     148, 

231. 

Monarda,  206,  249. 
Monk's-hood,  31,  146,  338. 
Montgomery,  Alexander,  164, 

175-      ' 

Moon-flower,  15. 
Moonseed,  242. 
Moonwort,  267. 
Mosquitoes,  204. 
Moss-pink.      See   PHLOX  su- 

BULATA. 

Moths,  219,  223,  224. 
Mottoes,  187,  197. 
Mountain-ash,  319. 
Mourning-dove,  193. 
Mulleins,  257,  312. 
Muller,    Hermann,    209,   214, 

216,  218,  221. 
Mushrooms,  307,  308,  312. 


Music,    heating    vs.    cooling, 

197. 

Mutton,  a  roast  leg  of,  311, 
Nankeen  lily,  174. 
Narcissus.     See  also  DAFFO- 
DIL. 

Ard  Righ,  94. 

cernuus,  95. 

corbularia,  98, 

corbularia  citrina,  90, 

double  poeticus,  94,  97,  144. 

emperor,  94. 

empress,  92,  93. 

Horsfieldi,  4,  87,  92,  93. 

incomparabilis,  91,  93. 

incomparabilis  Barn,  91. 

incomparabilis  Leedsi,  91, 

incomparabilis  Nelsoni,  91 

Leedsi  Circe,  95. 

Leedsi  cynosure,  96. 

Mary  Anderson ,  96= 

maximus,  94* 

nobilis,  95. 

obvallaris,  4,  95. 

odorus,  6. 

orange  phoenix,  93,  98. 

pallidus  prsecox,  4,  95. 

paper-white,  6. 

poeticus,  93,  97,  117. 

princeps,  95. 

pseudo-narcissus,  93,  96. 

Sir  Watkin,  94. 

sulphur  phoenix,  93,  98. 

tazetta,  6,  97,  99. 

tazetta,  grand  primo,  6, 

tazetta,  grand  soleil  d'or,  6. 

Telamonius,  95. 


350 


Nasturtium,  276. 

Necessity  of  the  hour,  a,  17. 

Nicotiana  affinis,  286. 
tabaccum,  286. 

Night-flowering  stock,  224. 

Nightshade,  purple,  252. 

Noli  me  tangere,  256. 

Norway  maple,  327. 

Nosegay,  the  old-fashioned, 
249. 

Nurserymen  as  money-mak- 
ers, 83. 

Nut-hatch,  255. 

Oak,  scarlet,  328. 

Oak-fern.    See  FBRNS. 

Oaks,  318,  327. 

Ode,  an  autumnal,  320. 

Odors,  3,  6-9,  51,  136, 140, 145, 
146,  151,  175,  186,  220,  231, 
232,  242,  252,  275,  285,  286, 

3<>3i  338. 

attractive  to  insects,  218-220, 

224. 

CEcanthus  fasciatus,  279. 
CEnothera  biennis,  286,  287. 
Onoclea  sensibilis,  266. 

struthiopteris,  183,  264. 
Onosma  taurica,  131. 
Orange-lily,  165,  170. 
Orchids,  7,  88,  127. 
Orchis  foliosa,  130. 

latifolia,  130. 

maculata,  130. 

spectabilis,  77,  128. 
Oriental  poppy,  150,  170. 
Oriole,  18,  82. 


Orobus  vernus,  160. 
Osmunda  cinnamomea,  266. 

Claytoniana,  266. 

gracilis,  265. 

regalis,  265. 

Ostrich  fern.     See  FERNS. 
Ostrowskia  magnitica,  157. 

Owls,   12,   13,  222,  253,  254. 

Ox,  the  phantom,  195. 
Oxlips,  4. 

Paconias,  37,  138,  139. 
Papaver  Alpinum,  120. 

Hookeri,  122. 

nudicaule,  120,  121. 

Orientale,  150,  170. 

Orientate  bracteatum,  150- 

Parkmanii,  150. 

umbrosum,  121. 
Partridge-vine,    78,    in,    126, 

127,  198,  255. 
Pasque-flower,  123. 
Peach,  Japanese  double-flow- 
ering, 86. 

red-flowering,  86. 

rose-flowering,  86. 

versicolor  plena,  86. 
Peepers.     See  HVI.ODES 
Pepperidge-tree,  328. 
Perfume.     See  ODORS. 
Periploca  graeca,  242. 
Petunia,  220,  276. 
Pewee,  wood,  159,  277. 
Phantom  ox,  the,  195. 
Phegopteris  dryopteris,  269. 
Philadelphicus        coronarius, 
231. 


35' 


Philadelphicus    foliis    aureis. 
231. 

Gordonianus,  231. 
Phlox  amoena,  119. 

divaricata,  119. 

perennial,  37,  118,  146,  280, 
281,  303. 

procumbens,  119. 

subulata,  117,  119. 
Phoebe-bird,  277. 
Pink  lady's-slipper,  128,  183. 
Plant  infanticide,  118. 
Planting  too  closely,  85. 

too  sparingly,  320. 
Plants,  Californian,  158. 

capricious.  132. 

carpet,  125-127,  130. 

deterioration  of,  under  cult- 
ure, 127. 

fertilized  by  insects,  141. 

half-hardy,  53. 

hybridizing,  140,  142,  281. 

ill  adapted  to  climate,  233. 

massing,  52. 

staking,  157,  203. 

to  be  avoided,  52,  115,  131, 
144,  268,  284,  285,  294. 

to  propagate,  49,  50. 

transplanting,    48,    49,    173. 
320. 

water,  76,  137. 
Plover,  27. 
Plum,  double-flowering,  84. 

purple-leaved.  36,  235. 
Plume-poppy,  284. 
Polygala  lutea,  119. 

paucifolia,  77. 


Polygonum   cuspidatum,   284, 

285. 

Polypodium  falcattim,  269. 
Polypody.     See  FERNS. 
Pope,  Alexander,  305,  322. 
Poppy,  Alpine,  120. 

double  white,  146. 

Iceland,   52,    120,    121,    171, 

250. 

Potash  and  iron  medicine,  24. 
Pot-pourri,  10,  n. 
Primroses,  4,  107,  116.  309. 

in  poetry,  109,  no. 
Primula  auricula,  108,  ti6. 

cortusoides,  108. 

denticulata,  108. 

farinosa,  109. 

Mistassinica,  109. 

Parryi,  109. 

polyanthus,  108,  116. 

rosea,  108. 

Sieboldi,  108. 

Sikkimensis,  108, 
Prince's  pine,  78. 
Privets,  232,  236. 
Protection,  advantage  of,  for 
trees,  84. 

for  plants,  114,  115. 
Pruning,  cruelty  of,  83. 
Prunus,  36. 

triloba,  84. 
Pteris  aquilina,  267. 
Pyrethrum,  152,  316. 
Pyrolas,  78,  127. 
Pyrus  Americana,  319. 

aucuparia,  319. 

malus.  86. 


352 


Quince,  Japan,  35,  85. 

Salvias,  325. 

Sambucus,  231. 

Ranunculus  aquatilis,  76. 
Read,  Thomas  Buchanan.  336,  • 

Sand-myrtle,  119. 
Sanguinaria  Canadensis.    See 

337- 

BLOODROOT. 

Red  spider,  27,  304." 

Saponaria  ocymoides,  131. 

Redwing,  27. 

Sassafras,  147,  327. 

Rhododendron,  139,  140. 

Savarin,  Brillat,  309. 

Rhus  glabra  laciniata,  329. 

Saxifraga  cordifolia,  116. 

Ribbon-grass,  146. 

cotyledon,  117. 

Ribes,  36. 

longifolia,  117. 

Robin,  4,  16,  18,  159,  319- 

peltata,  117. 

Robinson,  Phil,  16,  17. 
Rocket,  double-flowering,  146, 

Scabiosa  atropurpurea,  248. 
Caucasica,  248. 

161. 
Romneya  Coulteri,  i<>8. 

Scarlet  maple,  27,  28,  326,  327, 
331. 

Rook,  the,  15. 

Scillas,  106,  107,  116. 

Rose-beetle,  171. 

Scolopcndrium  vulgare,  270 

Rose,  brier.  146. 

Sea-lavender,  249. 

Christmas,  16. 

Sea-shore,  the,  197. 

legend  of  the,  186. 

Scdum,  in,  112,  115. 

Marie  Rady,  189. 

Senecio  macrophylla,  248. 

of  Sharon,  35,  146,  234. 

pulcher,  248. 

pests,  1  88,  203. 

Sensitive  fern.     See  FERNS. 

pot-pourri,  10,  n. 

Sentiment,  a  charming,  i?. 

wild,  252,  305. 

Shad-blow,  73,  328. 

Roses,   7,   158,   161,  165,  186, 

Shakespeare,  2,  13,  no,  200. 

239,  246,  276. 

244,  323. 

autumnal  flowering,  276. 

Shrubs,  autumnal  coloring  of, 

species,  hybrids,  and  vari- 

326, 329,  331. 

eties  of,  187-190. 

hardy  border,  35,  37,  220- 

Royal  fern.    See  FERNS. 

236. 

Rudbeckia,  288-293. 

pruning,  36,  37. 

Rue  anemone,  73,  no,  117. 

the  sweet-scented,  35. 

Ruffed  grouse,  253,  267. 

with  dark  foliage,  235. 

St.   Peter's-wort,    variegated. 

with  ornamental  fruit,  236, 

276. 

301,  317,  3l8- 

353 


Shrubs,  with  variegated  foli- 
age, 235. 
Silene,  131. 

alpestris,  125. 
Silk-vine,  241. 
Silphiums,  293,  294,  305. 
Silver-bell,  232. 
Skunk-cabbage,  60. 
Smilacina  bifolia,  125. 
Snails,  116. 
Snake-head,  252. 

root,  318. 

.Snowball,  36,  146,  230. 
Snowberry,  236. 
Snow-drops,  3,  31,  no,  146. 
Snow-pink,  146,  155,  156. 
Soils,  colors  of,  61. 

treatment    of   different,   46, 

47*  3<>4- 

Soldanella,  in. 
Sounds,  8,  19-21,  27,  28,   105, 
106,  159,  199,  204-206,  209, 
250,  251,  253-255,  277-280, 
319-322,  332,  336,  337: 
Sour-gum,  328. 
Sparrow,   English,    16-18,  20, 

43,  81,  149,  159,  188,  296. 
song,  18,  27. 
tree,  255. 

white-crowned,  81. 
white-throated,  81,  254,  3:10. 
Speedwell,  249. 
Sphinges,  the,  220-223. 
Sphinx,  Carolina,  220. 
cinerea,  220. 
drupiferarum,  220. 
Spiders,  295. 


Spiranthes  cernua,  129,  300. 

gracilis,  129. 
Spiraea  aruncus,  154. 

filipendula,  154,  171. 

Humboldtii,  154. 

lobata,  154. 

palmata,  155. 

prunifolia,  86,  329. 

Thunbergii,  86. 

ulmaria  fl.  pi.,  154. 
Spiraeas,  herbaceous,  154. 

shrubby,  36,  229,  230,  329. 
Sprengel,  Christian,  214. 
Spring,  an  early,  27. 

beauty,    59,    62,    no,    116, 
256. 

bitter-vetch,  160. 
Squirrels,  12,  254,  320,  333. 
Star-flower,  77,  78,  127. 
Star-grass,  78,  125,  127. 
Starling,  321. 
Starworts,  305,  314,  315. 
Statice,  249. 

Stinging  annoyances,  203,  256. 
Stocks,  146. 

double  ten-weeks,  303. 

night-flowering,  224. 
Street,  Alfred  Billings,  336. 
Sugar-maple,  327,  331. 
Sumac,  329,  331. 

cut-leaved,  36,  329. 
Sun-dial,  the,  297,  306,  307. 
Sunflower,  G6rarde's  descrip- 
tion of  the,  290. 
Sunflowers,  146,  287-295. 
Swallows,    147,   193,  205,  220, 
333»  336. 


354 


Swallows,  chimney.  19. 
Swamp,  a,  252. 
honeysuckle.    See  AZALEA 

V1SCOSA. 

pink.     See   AZALEA  NUDI- 

FLORA. 

Sweet  birch,  255. 

pepper-bush,  232. 

sultan,  248. 
Sweet-gum,  326,  328. 
Sweet-william,    146,  155,  156, 

250. 

Sword-grass,  146. 
Symonds,    John    Addington, 

117,  187. 
Syringa,  35,  231. 

golden,  236. 

Talmage,  Dr.,  5,  203. 
Tanacetum  crispum,  285. 
Tansy,  curled-leaved,  285. 
Tecoma  radicans,  241. 

radicans  var.  atrosanguinea, 

241. 
Tennyson,   13,   159,   161,  199, 

221.  332. 

Thalictrum  anemonoides,  73. 
Theocritus,  202,  251. 
Thomson,  James,  193,  335. 
Thoreau,  13,  58,  148,  251,  260. 
Thorns,  74,  313,  319. 
Thrush,  8,  159. 

hermit,  81. 

wood,  8 1,  82. 
Thyme,  146,  285. 
Tiarella,  117,  126. 
Tiger-lily,  146,  170,  181,  275. 


Tilton,  Theodore,  195. 
Toad-flax,  312. 
Toads,  105,  106,  115,  116. 
Tobacco-plants,  286. 
Touch-me-not,  256. 
Tradescantia,  146. 
Transplanting,  best  season  for, 

33°- 

Tree-sparrow,  255. 
Tree-toad,  193. 
Trees,  autumnal  hues  of,  325- 

330- 

Trillium,  62,  64,  65,  75,  254,. 
256. 

erectum,  64. 

erythrocarpum,  64,  117. 

grandiflorum,  117. 
Tritoma,  280,  302. 
Trout-fishing  at  night,  221. 
Trout,  Rocky  Mountain,  18. 

speckled,  18,  254,  307. 
Trumpet-flower,  147,  241. 
Tulips,  4,  146,  151. 
Tunica  saxifraga,  125,  300. 
Turk's-cap  lily,  181,  198. 
Turner,    Charles    Tennyson, 

335- 
Twin-flower,  77,111.    See  also 

LlNN>CA  BOREALIS. 

Uvularia  grandiflora,  73. 

Vaccinium,  77,  127. 
Valerian,  146,  160. 
Veery,  253,  321. 
Verbena,  220,  276. 
Verdant  sculpture,  37. 


355 


Veronica  longifolia  subsessilis, 
249. 

pumila,  125. 

repens,  125. 

rupestris,  125. 

verbenacea,  125. 
Vervain,  256. 
Vesper-sparrow,  161. 
Viburnum     lantanoides,    236, 
318- 

opulus,  236,  318. 

opulus  sterilis,  230. 

plicatum,  231. 

rugosum,  318. 
Viola  blanda,  66. 

cornuta,  300. 

cucullata,  65. 

odorata,  66. 

pedata,  65. 

pedata  bicolor,  65,  300. 

rostrata,  119. 

Violets,  5,  7,  8,  62,  63,  65,  66, 
109,  no,  161,  256. 

a  hot-bed  of,  u,  12. 

how  they  became  purple,  66. 

Marie  Louise,  6. 

Shakespeare's,  66. 

under  the,  70. 
Virgil,  250,  315. 
Virgin's  bower,  237,  238,  239, 

252. 

Voices  of  Nature,   204.     See 
also  SOUNDS. 

winter,  16. 

Walton,  Izaak,  201. 
Wasps,  202,  204. 


Water-lily,  5,  75,  106. 
Water-plants,  76,  137. 
Water  ranunculus,  75. 
Wayfaring  tree,  318. 
Weather,  the,  14,  15,  22,  23, 
27,  28,  135,  193,  203,  245, 
246,  306. 

Weeds,  the  big,  256. 
Weigela,  37,  234,  235. 

white,  36. 
White  alder,  74,  232. 

fringe,  230. 

White,  Gilbert,  116,  205,  329. 
White-crowned  sparrow,  81. 
White-throated  sparrow,  81, 

254,  320. 

Whittier,  J.  G.,  no,  194. 
Wild  bean,  242. 

carrot,  312. 

rose,  252,  305. 

thorns,  74,  313. 

Turk's-cap  lily,  181. 
Wild  wood-lily,  183,  198,  206, 

256. 

Wind,  Ruskin's  plague,  23. 
Wind-flower.     See  ANEMONE. 
Winter -green,    78,    126,    127, 

255- 

Wistaria,  236. 
Witch-hazel,  337. 
Woman  as  a  monopolist,  8,  9. 
Woodcock,  27,  252. 
Woodpecker,  downy,  255. 
Wood-pewee,  159,  277. 
Wood-thrush,  8,  159. 
Woods,  the  wintry,  255,  267, 

337- 


356 


Yellow-bird,  320. 
Yellow-wood,  230. 
Yew,  331- 

Zenachus,  250. 
Xylocarpa  Virginica,  210,  211.    Zinnia,  5,  15,  316. 


Wooclsia  Ilvensis,  270. 

obtusa,  270. 
Wordsworth,  96,  187. 
Wren,  18. 


6 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
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DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


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AUG    8    IS* 

AUG     9    1940 

JAN    9    1947 

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